SNOW AND GLASS

May 2019

​

We were silver and gold, trembling

but not shivering, glistening,

but not glimmering, we were like

stars. We tore ourselves apart,

like broken mirrors, distorting

our reflections, who were we

then? Like stars, distant but

dead. Like snowfalls, endless but

empty. Like iridescent glass,

beautiful but deadly. Such

madness, such simplicity,

such chaos, such divinity,

tell me if you'll save me or

don't. I'll die either way, but

I'm not made of glass. I'm

not made of snow. I've 

played with fire, and 

last I checked, snow 

doesn't burn. Glass 

doesn't have a heart

to break. Snow and glass

cannot hurt. So tell me,

will you save me? Don't

let me die alone.