Shattered Glass

PART I: Gaililea

In the dim light, I dance, as if on hot coals
My smile distant, my laughter cracked, like shattered glass
Each step is pain, each shard a memory,
Of gunshots, and promises of pain

I am nothing, but caged,
I wait in silence, for the pain to come,
When it comes, I sink and open my mouth,
But no words come out, just silent prayers and fading hope

I saw his knife, I heard her screams,
I watched as she slipped away,
Her final breath, her heartbeat slow,
His apologies for his own crimes

I seek the warmth, the light, the haze,
Each inhale a momentary escape,
I float on clouds of soft disarray,
But the high sinks faster than hope

I stare at my ceiling,
The walls whisper his secrets,
The world blurs and wobbles,
Too harsh, too cruel, too fast

The silvery wisps wrap around me,
An embrace of numbness, a desperate grab,
Yet the colors bleed darker,
Like ink on fragile pages, it runs

A broken mirror of a girl,
Glass cascades, it shatters at last
I lay on the floor, irretrievably broken,
Finally, gone, and at peace.

The screen fades into darkness,
No credits, no applause, just stillness
A girl, a memory, a flicker of light,
Echoes on the hearts of those who watch

Part II: Marcus

In the beginning, there was laughter,
Fingers laced, dreams painted bright,
Across our hallway of memories.
Her laugh was a melody, clear and bright

But shadows grew as twilight embraced their home,
The love, once a beacon of light, twas just a whisper
She faded like a ghost slipping through his fingers,
Never again would her sunlight be glimpsed

Galileia, a fragile bloom in the chaos,
Her innocent eyes glassy, reflecting my angry storm.
I stumbled through haze and darkness,
Words slurred, hands heavy, and his screams echoed.

Days turned into nights, a cycle of despair,
A sea of bottles, a losing battle,
Broken glass on the floor,
And a child crying out for her father

Life plays out like a film in slow motion,
Scenes of laughter overshadowed by pain.
Though the credits roll, the story feels trapped,
A haunting reminder of the lives he lost in the pills.

PART III: Lea

In the dim light of a far away memory,
She watches, a specter in the shadows,
As the reel of their life unfolds,
Where laughter once echoed, now lies hollow

Her husband, once sunlit with joy,
Drowned in the amber haze,
Lost in bottles that promise
Of warmth and escape,
Yet all he finds is an abyss,
Love turned bitter,
Each sip a stolen breath.

In the corner, her daughter, Galilea,
A flickering flame,
Fighting her own demons,
The pills a lullaby,
To numb the pain,
But the ending is scripted in silence,
In the quiet collapse of dreams.

The credits roll,
a slow, mournful crawl,
while she lingers,
caught between worlds,
a witness to tragedy,
where love, once vibrant,
now clings like smoke,
choking on the echoes of what might have been.