I could shatter
My mind is pure bone china
The likes of which
You could never afford to replace
So replace me carefully
Upon the shelf
On which you found me
My soul is made
From grains of sand
Look into my eyes
For seven years of hell
I'm fragile but it's you who'll be
Bleeding
Bleeding to death
Just from touching
The shattering fragments
That used to be
Me
"Fragile: Don't Touch"
ReplyDeleteI really like this Paula. You have a gift for opening yourself up and sharing from the deep places of your heart!
Thank you. :-)
ReplyDelete