The lavender edges begin to swim and teem and brim to overflowing as my fascination begins lapping inside my brain.

Lake shards of pretty little pieces of broken bone china all touching and not touching, dangerous and lovely.

Wickedly pointed yet somehow able to calm my anxious heart. Anxious for the life I’ve spent seeking validation.

When will it end, this journey of self-deprecation? Might the shards be smoothed as I fit the pieces of meaning making into a fine and noble picture of resolve?