Broken Glass

I see you
beyond the glass.
Your lips move;
I hear no sound.
Words are lost
against hard, smooth surface.
I press my ear against the glass.
Nothing.
It is cold inside
though I belong.
There is no comfort;
no softness.
Yet I belong
don't I?
It is easy
to hide.
You can see me.
I see
I am not hiding.
I do not need the words
I cannot hear
to tell me.
Sadness wells within you;
pain spilling down your cheeks.
I place my hands.
No salty stings
in open wounds.
I want to feel.
I want to feel
but cannot
unless
the glass breaks.
Shattering sound returns.
Shards shiver
on my skin.
I reach your face.
I am broken
but mended.
And the blood,
it does not stain you.
Salt stings
and I am living.
In broken glass,
but living.
You lead me
forward.
Will not let me see
but I hear,
and stamp harder.
The notes jump
and dance
under my feet.
I listen.
So I will know them
again.
And not be afraid
to hear.
Not need to hide
from you
or me.