Image (c) 2009, Karla Dorman
Must harden my heart so it doesn't get
broken. Tired of picking up the pieces
time after time, and yet, I keep handing
it out, hoping and praying this time will
be different. You'd think I'd learn not
to give people something so delicate
and fragile. They drop it once more
and I watch it hit the floor and shatter
like glass. Slicing fingers to ribbons, I
come to the conclusion: love is dead.
(c) 2009, Karla Dorman (11/2)
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