"tell me..."

"..where do you find love, hannah?"

i don't know how to answer
i could barely make out her words

i could only make out
the faint whisper

drowned out
by the echoing
cascade
of falling
glass

shards of hope
shards of dreams
shards of sacrifice
time, effort,
promises
could be's
would be's
should be's

that prick
and slice
at the thin
film
of faith--
an outer
layer
of calloused
skin

sharp edges
plunging deep
into the soft, tender,
raw
flesh
of
dreams

you promised
to protect

...together. 

...where do we find love, God?

her words--

her broken glass words--

scratch away,

scraping,

clawing,

reaching--

carving doubt

into the foundations

of my own dreams.

where do we find love?

 my hardened heart

no longer 

understands.