fragile heartthe heart fluttersand you feel something for that personbut shattered like glassthe black bottle held to the eye,the slivers reap nothingwhen they hit the groundthat's where they staythe easiest thing to dowhen your feet hit the groundis to run away quickly...but still...the sunlight on the shardsglints so beautifullywho cares if it pricks my hand?it is possibleto fix a fragile heart
at the gravestanding at the gravei was cold in my griefyour feet were positionedin cowardicepoor little childtrained to hatei don't think you ever knewa day you weren't afraidi long to take youbetween forfinger and thumband place you as gentlyas you can handleon the safest seashelluntil you know that you're a pearlyou are not, like you think,a decaying skull that stinksso straighten up your haunchand smile for real one daypoor little child,never really an adultclinging to his armyou came respectfullypoor little child,i wish i could help
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