Please be gentle, because I am frail
If you're going to break me, I want it to count
I want to be a million pieces of shattered glass blowing in the wind
Spreading like the weeds you pluck from your garden every day
So when you're walking barefoot through the green grass
You may stub your toe and remember that I used to be more than just a thorn in your foot
I used to be the mirror you looked into every morning, laughing because there's no one you would rather see across from yourself
I was once a seed you planted in your mind
You will let me grow with beauty and might
And you will **** me out when I occupy too much of your space
Like a **** in your garden,
Please be brutal, so I can no longer be frail.

I carried boxes of burnt possessions from the tattered tavern walls
Watched as you sat in silence, as if to anticipate the fall.
I pieced your life together through ***** pictures and broken frames
Joined the crowd as it approached just to lift up your name
Through piles of wet clothes and these burnt tavern walls
We have created love and hope, disaster being the cause
I hope someone snapped a picture to look back at this day,
Just a reminder of how fast this could all slip away.

Instead of adorning your walls with lavish gifts and hollow gestures, I left them as they were
The most beautiful things aren't that way because of what we give to them
They just are.

I wrote your name like I was practicing my penmanship again
Traced the curves of the letters like I was touching your skin
Beads of sweat dotted the I’s, and I touched your face
Finishing each word like you were the last thing I would taste.

I don't think any of us are actually broken.
That just wouldn't work.
We are bent, and will continue to be.
No matter how many times we set fire to ourselves,
We will always be malleable.

I've never felt as alive as I do when I'm almost not.
I can breathe a little better when I can barely breathe at all.
I feel things correctly when I don't feel a thing.
I lie to myself daily when the truth becomes too hard.