The Gift

I watch you take my fragile gift and casually inspect it. I see you boast of your possession, while it lies, covered in dust at the back of the cupboard. I feel you pick at its delicate folds, and scratch the surface to see what lies beneath. The pain is almost unbearable. almost. There isone time that I see you put my precious offering down; you stop inspecting; you simply gaze, down at my trembling little gift. my all; my only treasure. You look for awhile, and gradually the black shadows on your face begin to melt away. Breathless, I close my eyes; afraid because I know this ending. I wrote it myself. Sure enough, just as your beautiful hand reaches out to touch my gift, another gift arrives. This gift is glistening with precious stones, and its edges glint with gold. Your eyes begin to gleam as you take in this mountain of finery. You shove my treasure from the table, and hear the shattering as it breaks. Slowly and deliberately, you work up venom; you spit on my precious everything. Take her gift then, and leave me to quietly clear up the smashed remains of who I am. Toss some glue to me; that should fix it. The gift is clumsily stuck back together agin, But full ofchips andcracks that eevryone can see and look pity on. One jaggedhole gapes - the wound which will never heal. I do not search for the missing piece; I know whereit is. Your now golden hand has pushed it deep into the depths of your pocket; ready to bring out toplay with some other rainy day. You will brighten and forget past hurt. But my scars will remain.