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You were the last person I thought Would put a hammer to my soul; and the first person I thought That would close The hole. The kissing, the stares. The stroking of hair. All transparent; but placed with care. You say you still love me, And I don't know how. Why didn't you love me then Instead of now? I was in love, And you were out. You dealt your blow Now you come about? Picking, and digging For treasures once walked over? Caressing my heart like it is glass, When it is in shards; Cut your fingers on the remnants Of your actions; You won't feel a fraction Of the wound Between my ribs.
0
May 16, 2013
May 16, 2013 at 11:41 AM UTC
Glass
You were the last person I thought Would put a hammer to my soul; and the first person I thought That would close The hole. The kissing, the stares. The stroking of hair. All transparent; but placed with care. You say you still love me, And I don't know how. Why didn't you love me then Instead of now? I was in love, And you were out. You dealt your blow Now you come about? Picking, and digging For treasures once walked over? Caressing my heart like it is glass, When it is in shards; Cut your fingers on the remnants Of your actions; You won't feel a fraction Of the wound Between my ribs.
haley-k-collins
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May 16, 2013
May 16, 2013 at 11:41 AM UTC
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