I am made of glass
The smallest impact and I shatter
So delicate, so easy to break
When you see this piece of glass
Do you wish to preserve its beauty?
Or do you see that it is weaker than you?
One swift movement and it is broken
Does it feel good?
Looking at those shattered remains?
Knowing that you were strong enough to destroy it so easily?
I hope you feel proud
But one day, you will realize
No matter how much glass you break, it will never put your pieces back together

And slowly the bird learns to fly again…
It has been pulled from the clouds for so long
First, a stormy sky, too dangerous to face
Then, a broken wing, too painful to use
Using its nest as a hiding place
But one day, the bird pokes its head out
Remembering briefly how it feels to bask in the sunlight
The sun does not last for long before the rain comes again
But every time the bird recalls the warmth of the sun
It realizes that it cannot hide in the nest forever
The bird jumps from the nest, not succeeding the first time
But it ***** its wings over and over again
Getting closer to the great blue sky each time
Now that it has felt the sun again, it will stop at nothing to reach it
And slowly the bird learns to fly again…

The heart is the most fragile of the body's parts,
so when it is broken, the hardest to repair.
She stumbled upon the best temporary cure,
one which with you I'd be happy to share.
She pulls from a drawer, the simplest tool,
though some may call it a weapon.
The cold metal kisses her pale skin,
and the crimson flow begins.
It flows like a river, the Amazon, the Nile,
it blends with her tears and it goes on for miles.
Her skin no longer red when the remnants are cleared,
a deep scar she'll always hold as a souvenir.