Fine China
She thought that she was the cause for his dismay...
She thought that she was the cause for his dismay
That she broke him
Like a vase thrown and shattered to
many pieces.
But the vase was already cracked
Secret slivers and weathered veins
that were hidden on the inside
She simply threw the last stone
And in that false sense of power she
felt strong
And he felt weak
That a tiny stone could shatter his entire being
But he pieced back more damage than he knew
And the truth is that the tables had been
turned from the start
He'd just got used to the fragility, to
the thrill of the rebirth
So patiently, he waits on the edge of the ledge
Never truly gluing all his pieces to last
Wishing that someone may come
round again
And throw another pebble
So that he may be reborn
Because that is the only way
He can see colour through all his grey.
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