September 15, 2011
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Like a piece of brittle glass
Ready to be broken
It'll pass around the room
'till some princess breaks it open.

Let her play with the pieces
Until her fingers start to bleed
She'll drop it to the floor, once more
Telling me this is what I need.

Tenderly, I'll pick it up
Wash her red blood from my hands
I'll lift my chin and turn around
-Bear my burden like a man.

Shove the shards back through my chest
Feel it scar my flesh and bone
come to quickly love the notion
It is best to be alone.

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Sar27 said...
Sept. 24, 2011 at 11:38 pm
This is a great poem. I had to read it a couple times before I got it, and then I thought I'd cry a little! =) why do you "wash her blood from your hands" and not yours? is she bleeding too?
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