Undone Poem by Hannah Gilchrist

Something has to give,
Like a film in slow-motion
Piece by piece it comes away.
As the network of cracks extend to the very corners,
And the glass shatters,
The portrait crumbles.
The painted porcelain is scattered on the floor.
Like a jigsaw puzzle with a million pieces,
An eye over there, another eye over here,
Looking around, searching for the members of the body,
A corner of a mouth, unable to smile or frown,
Speaking with partially closed lips.
If only it had the power to bring itself back together.
If only all the king's horses and all the king's men were around.
She realises her destitution.
A single eye blinks a single tear but it cannot fall,
It rests on the glass,
Hollow, alone.
If only she could weep and soothe her ragged edges.
She is undone.