Fragments of Porcelain

I'm cracking, forming

    f

        r

    a

  g

      m

    e

n    

      t

  s

Bits of porcelain skin smashing against the ground,

Frustrated,

A            

    N       

        G

            R    

                Y

More fragile than fine china, 

But not covered in delicate images,

No petals could cover the thorns ruining my mind,

D    R    I    P    P    I    N    G          B    L    O    O    D

The porcelain reflects the pain I feel,

Shattering against the earth,

In a million pieces because they don't care.

Unable to be glued back together,

L       S        N

    O        I        G           

The good part of me.

That warm tea.

Only cold and humiliating. 

Thrown away and never to be seen again.