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Porcelain Hearts

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I know I told you I could handle it.
That's why I feel so bad-
I feel like I have failed you in some way.
Some way beyond redemption
some way beyond kiss and make up.

You said it was okay
that it wasn't my fault
and you tried to carry the blame yourself.

You always were such a martyr.

I know you were trying to be nice
by being gentle.

But the layers of duct tape
that held me together
had to come off eventually.

So I begged you and I pleaded you
to hurry up and rip it off.
The duct tape adhered to my heart
to keep my fragile porcelain heart from
shattering.

And I think you may have loved me.
So of course you listened.
And you ripped it off.

It was like my grandmother's cabinet
full of porcelain dishes
crashing to the ground.

Shaking the floors
and the chairs at the little table
and the tiny droplet of water
from the faucet in the kitchen.

I wiped that tiny droplet of water away.

Thank you,
I said,
I understand. Good night.




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