You hoped for a mansion
but all you got was a ruined house,
abandoned, without care.
It was not what you expected.

A kind of wildness has crept into you-
unpredictable, you have become too slippery for me.

But I'm not concerned with that right now.
I'm too intent on pressing my nose to the window,
fogging the glass with my breath,

(Weird how this cracked pane bends the light)

trying to decipher your contours
as you snake away in stony silence,

halting abruptly at the iron gate
where the grazing pasture seems greener,
much sleeker than your own.

Someday soon, you'll give up your crazy meanderings.
Heed my words!
But not yet-
not until I shatter you.

copyright © Caroline Grace 2014