For The Record I am one of many shards sparkling, split up and fractal reflecting some inner core This one, she's a writer: sitting in her garret, her wonderful company thousands of words. That one: she sits by the water, Thinks of dipping her toes in, stares into the rippling grey-green. Here, she lights up in the midst of company. There, she quietly smiles, sits, and knits. Once the shards were facets of a whole, unbroken, happy girl-child. The shattering devastated, cracked into pieces. The core, now, hidden by thick shards Layers of protective façades.