tink tink tink
Standing outside
The harsh,
Cold wind
Rushing through my soul
And cutting into wounds,
The ones you can't see
And I start crying
Trying to hold back the tears
But I can't
And they come ,
And freeze,
Before they hit the ground
And shatter
tink tink tink
tink tink tink
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Vase
What am I?
A doormat for your shoes?
Cobblestone for your steps?
Am I meant for nothing more
than a book, open pages,
assigned by your english professor,
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They think Delicate
i hear your battle cry
winning.
i feel the tremors
loss.
they think delicate,
but snowflakes don’t shatter
bulletproof glass?
they think delicate
draw.
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