A careless child dropping a vessel.

You can't expect the broken to tell you their pain, sometimes you have to ask.

Air bursting through a window, throwing a vase on the ground.

"Do things because you want to", I don't see the point.

High a top the shelf, the sly cat knocks over the heirloom.

Depression is blinding, defining, chilling, and easily over looked.

Falling over and over again.

Broken over and over again.

Eventually we all are like pottery shattered into dust.