Mondays

Stop.

Do not tell me that "it will all be okay!"

Because it won't.

It has been a year now;

The emptiness inside of my heart is still screaming.

It's quieter some days,

It's louder others.

I will give you my heart;

A little glass thing.

It reflects the stars burning in your eyes.

You will drop it on the sidewalk,

And call all of my broken pieces beautiful.

Pick it up shard by shard,