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A view through the rain covered window that is my mind. It may be a twisted view.



Plum Trees Made of Mirrors She is fragile. If you speak too loud she may shatter into thousands of pieces too small to put back together. If you sang to her she would mar. Delicate and Flimsy. I want to sing and I want to dance...only if she can sing, and she can dance by my side. I cannot touch her for I am consumed with fear. I do not want her to be weak. I do not want her to break. He broke her...smashed her into pieces that only he could mend. I do not want her broken.

Posted by: ZainieRainyday Thu Sep 17, 2009 @ 03:58am