All she ever wanted was a clear line, a glass door between worlds,
A separation between fact and fiction that is tangible, obvious. She wanted to see.
She was not beautiful, what with ghost skin and blue veins laced
About crimson eyes. It didn't make sense to any of them. Everyone was
She was beautiful, listening to breaking glass in her phrases and finally
Verses. She found shattered mirrors fascinatingly perfectly wondrously
Shatters Fades Like glass might have, would have, did
But it wasn't anybody's fault
That she had not and had to
Nobody touches this
Go down in pieces,
Splinters, light and magic
Too rough too hard too fazed unbreakable, too many syllables to fit in a beat
Standing breathing bleeding smiling, fierce and dangerous, thrilled
To bits for the sounds of violence in everything she does
Dropping glasses for the best reasons best thoughts any anyone
Ever everyone dared to know they could have
Best crash best hurt when it cuts with silver edges like knife blades
Like moonlight slivers like fresh glass
Dropping glasses and plates and the queen's jewels
Wondering wandering right through to the other end like we could never do
Dropping glasses that shatter that leave diamonds like mirrors like similes
Like diamonds like broken glass.
Dropping glasses just to hear them break
Like mirrors would if she had some.
She is not beautiful
But her not broken crushed reflection is.
And such beautiful, horrible crimson eyes
Bleed clear no different from us.
We're not so far anymore
That's how come