Cracks in the Porcelain

Her lovely voice, rings in the morning.
Fateful day, with a bright sun beaming.
A lovely night, beautiful sleep.
The morning shatters, a worry in her voice.

Had to get up, didn’t know why.
World comes slowly into focus.
Her voice is panicked.
My pounding heart fills my ears with its rhythm.

Her face is panicking looking at the bed.
Her mother is there, glass on the carpet, TV on the floor.
Seconds to realize.
I cannot believe it.

Her pale face aghast,
like polished porcelain.
The cracks begin to spread,
small sounds fill the air,
fine spider webs cross her visage.

Seconds to decide,
seconds to ask.
No time to think.
Looking at her,

I’m sorry,
I cannot stop the cracks.
I’m sorry,
I cannot hold you together.
I’m sorry,
You will have to go through this.
I’m sorry,
All I can offer is my best.
I know, it will not be enough.
I’m sorry it hurts.
I know it hurts.
I’m sorry, she’s gone.
I can’t bring her back.

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