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The shattered glass disrupts the transparency.

Windows stretch high, two to each side.

Like eyes.

His porcelain mask chipped away to reveal only the muscle and bone.

Only missing that pickled grin — drawn under the nose to personify the lies.

I don’t know what to believe anymore…

He sets the bottle down.

“You cant save him now.”

The son watches over as the moon begins to drown.

10, 12, 15 years since he’s looked into the mirror now.

At that view — staring back with a glaring truth.

Weathered and broken from years of abuse.

Ochre stained finger tips pull through his thick grey beard; furrowed brows.

“I can explain… I’m better now.”

The shattered glass disrupts the transparency.

Windows stretch high, two to each side.

Lies on display.

Laughing between moments just to escape.


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