Similes

Sometimes people

make the weirdest

similes

these days.

Things break.

Toys break.

People break.

Abused, torn,

stuffed animals,

dolls;

gaping cracks

down their sides,

with these

ironic

smiles

still plastered

on their face.

Beckett,

six years old,

standing at the

top

of the

staircase,

arms spread wide.

Still a child.

And red.

Blurred colours,

that

I

can't see;

too much

blood

in my eyes.

I was thinking;

'Good,

at least

he won't hurt

his own-

Oh wait.’

Sand brown hair,

shaking,

solemn, terrified, defiance.

One rake like grip

on his shoulder

is all it takes.

What I

remember most-

Our identical

wide,

panicked eyes.

My

slow reflexes.

His

expression,

as he's flung

literally across the room,

disappearing

into the darkness.

A single

sickening

CRACK!

from

the

foot

of the stairs.

Silence.

Things break.

Toys break.

People break.

How

is it possible?

To compare

living

beings

with those

abandoned, broken

stitches of fabric,

left

in a

corner.

Like I said;

sometimes,

people make

the weirdest similes,

these days.

And they're

usually

just

not

true.