Once again she was on her hands and knees picking up the pieces of broken glass. Time and time again he had smashed them. Who was she to assume the root that has caused him to smash them glass, but time and time again he did it. She did a bold thing today, she stood and looked him in the eye and told him to stop, of course this was after he smashed the dinner set to the pieces. All their life together she had been on her hands and knees picking up pieces of shattered glass, she did not know anything else. In the deepest corner of her heart she began to hate. And out of that deepest corner of that broken heart she began to act.
Look at that picture. The bruised and battered woman, ever so alone in that ever so dark a room. See the brokenness in her face, her tear stained face, her bloodshot eyes that had been dried out. The bruises on her hands and feet, and the cuts from picking up those pieces of broken glass. The bruise and battered women now holds a knife. She is on the run, fueled by her rage, and the pain from the wounds only made her run faster. Look the lunatic woman is on the loose, ready to cut before she is cut, ready. Ready and willing with all her might. Look at her eyes, vacant, and yet when you look deep you see the gurgling blood, dark, nearly black. The most horrific picture of the abused turn abuser.
The day I took her home I still remember. I heard the piercing scream from the room inside the building. Piercing scream. I ran with urgency for I knew that voice was crying to be heard. I ran up the stairs and burst into a room, stark white apart from the dark red that was flowing from the flesh that carried the voice. My first instinct was a sisterly one, to embrace her and remove the knife from her hands so I approached her. As I entered in I heard glass crunching under my feet. I looked down to see pieces of glass covered the hardwood floors of the room. I carefully drew near and removed the knife from her grip. I drew that body to mine and I tenderly rocked her to pacify her. The shaking soul collapsed in my arms in exhaustion.
Each day she met with the Gardener called Grace, and both worked through my garden. Each day little by little, she says, the garden, like her heart, was made new again.
Today I sit with her at the porch of my house. The bruise and battered woman had a new soul. She was ready to show me the pictures and so we sat side by side as she showed and told. A story so uncomfortable, and as I listened I head glass crunching under my feet. The sharp crackling edges of her story cut me enough to make me cringe. She painted the picture of a maiden who was so pure, but the Batman came and fed her flesh. The seeds of corruption grew and covered the girl and bit by bit the pure maiden was covered with spots and her hands began to be stained with blood. Everyman came to take and take from her. After all she was stained and covered in spots.
The White Dancer rescued her once. He extended His hands, strong and sturdy to her and invited her to dance. He took her in his arms and assured her all was well. He told her he was watching her from afar all this time, and each time she was stained, he cried bitter tears. He told her how much she meant to Him, and how much it cost Him to extend His hand. Princess He called her, too good to be true, not ready to dance yet she pushed Him aside.
The Glass Breaker came and posed as her prince, but he like Everyman couldn't see the pure white maiden buried underneath the swampy muddy mangrove tree. His words sharper than knife, and his flesh a veil so thick, his pride was a wall so sturdy and his self a child, with needs, with wants, and with the will to do all it takes to get it. He was the glass breaker and she, was glass shattered.
She remembers daily the White Dancer who extended HIs hand to sure. She longs for Him everyday and so He sent me to fetch her, so He can meet her again, right now, right here.
I sat and smiled as He appeared at my door to invite her to dance with Him again. This time she smiled and answered so clear, I trust you White Dancer, hold me close and dance away. Yes sweet princess I heard you cry, dear sweet princess I longed for your hand, you my dear princess are safe in my arms, and we will dance away, into eternity, forevermore.
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