"stop trying so hard" and the thing shattered, all those hours, that's what Yuki said, but it wasn't wasted, was it, the curve of the lip was too perfect, the glaze too even, like it was trying to prove something, the clay doesn't lie, i was lying, it's the trying that ruins it, the wanting it too much, the clay knows when you're forcing it, but it also knows when you're afraid, when you're pulling back, the dust motes dancing in the one good window, they're not judging the cracks, or the glaze that pooled too thick, they're just there, watching, and the hands remember better than the eyes, there's a freedom in the smashing i can't explain, it's not destruction it's release, a letting go of the lies and the wanting, the sound is loud and clear, the sound of starting over, the sound of honesty, or maybe the clay just wanted to be something else, i didn't ask it, i told it, and that was the first mistake, the grit under my fingernails is the truth of it all, the mountain is the distance, and the pot is the space around the silence