there are too many to count
From the Start
This one was the first.
Yet not the last.
It’s made of twisted,
Broken things.
Pieces of glass,
Words that will never be forgotten,
My soul that shattered,
Fragments of my heart,
Crashing down.
The sky is falling,
My world is crumbling.
This mask is crumbling.
It’s glass and rubble,
Things that took a tumble.
It’s forgotten loves and friends,
It’s the foretelling of the end.
This mask is glass,
Like my heart,
It will be shattered.
It has no expression,
It hides everything,
It cannot let anything leak.
Because then, my dear,
I would seem weak.
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