you act as if my heart was made of red clay found in the ground

cutting pieces out

molding it to your satisfaction

scratching it and patterning it the way you feel it needs to be

and now you've left it dripping with blood

with battle wounds worse than ever

and you didn't even try to fix the damage you had done    

you destroyed me beautifully

yet i feel so ugly.

come make a masterpiece out of me,

come make a masterpiece.

~t.s.