How do you hide the blade in yourself heart?
The little shrapnel lodged, so deep, flesh and metal melded together,
The soft dum-clink playing its part
Tearfully, In this winter orchestra of bite.
How do you wear this mask of glass that could resemble a smile?
Walking with other masks of steel and iron,
Admiring their craftsmanship and delicate style, but still
Recoiling, because no mask can hide the gentle dum-clink of the knife.
How do you place your feet down again?
Lost in the doomed dance of hope,
Pursuing the silhouette of dreams without thought or doubt,
Until the tendrils of doubt deep through and you look for the rope,
Yearning for a way back to the clouds that comforted not suffocated.
You try. You try and try and try,
And when the water of tears swirl and choke,
You remember you can breathe under water,
You question perhaps that piece was supposed to break,
That a broken melody is sweeter,
And as you cut your hands on your shattered shards, you try again.
