The glass of my dreams
Shatters at my feet
The points cracking my skin
And letting blood flow down my leg
Rivers of red painting my foot
And I look down
Scared and yet
The shattered glass still lays beneath me
The shards caught in my skin
My skin healed from the scars
That will forever remain.
And then I see that
Blood is not only on my feet
But my hands and knuckles.
I open my fist
Only to find a new dream
Sheltered between the same fingers
That had so brutally
Betrayed the one before it.

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