The man with a broken nose
Sat in his morose filth – glum chum
Breathing sharply as his sapphire heart
Pushes against his thinning skin

He can barely open his eyes
To look at the sad old man
In the reflection of the dead TV
Bouncing off the night light

All he’s ever known is self doubt
Fed by baby cries and thick bubbles
He has drowned the cries and burst out of the bubbles
But sometimes the cries and bubbles comeback

Today he is in a bubble
Which has changed to a night ocean blue tint
He throws off his thick and dark blanket
And bashes his scarred fist against that glass bubble

The bashing vibrates the walls
Making him collapse
For the shards of his heart
Have ripped through his skin

He bleeds his cocktail of suffering and frustration
But not the damaged blood his heart pumps
He cannot feel pain without it
He needs pain to live

When the bubble’s walls stop vibrating
His heart settles down
But he still bleeds and crunches his eyes
He wants a new heart

Sometimes a bad heart disintegrates
Making room for a smaller and healthier one
But when or if that new heart comes
Is unknown

For now he will bleed out all his pain
For the bubble will not shatter its walls
Until he has no pain to strengthen the child’s cry
The child will be left behind, and he will be nothing but an empty shell

From that shell will emerge
A blank canvas and a brush
He will have to create his own color palette
To replace the ones he knows

The pain has pooled around him
He tries to drink it with a cup
But the poison never touches his lips
His desperate cries shatter bubble into blue ash

A paste has been made with the pain and sand
Left behind from the disintegrated bubble
As soon as he’s up, the wind whisks it all away
The TV turns on and whispers “Smoke hides fear.”

He looks around
There is no smoke – there is no TV
He runs at top speed, only to realize a terrifying reality
He was never in a bubble, there was no crying child
He was the creator of his smoke and sand
But now its gone, and he can see all his scars