Shatter

though softly
we fall, still
we shatter into
a million pieces, glittering
our fragments dance
on the filthy ground, and to
the untrained eye
it is beauty
though slowly
we break, still
do not mistake
shards of glass
for glimmering
silver
or confetti
or magic, it
is not
though quietly
we ache
do not mistake
devastation
for beauty