deepundergroundpoetry.com

Teacup

I once held love loosely
in the palm of my hand,
a delicate, fragile thing;
tripping over complacency,
I dropped it and watched
as it shattered on the floor;
frantic, I gathered the pieces,
nicked and bleeding
for my efforts;
and. although it took
a mastic of heartache  
mixed with a thousand tears
to make them stick,
I made something new;
no less delicate, or fragile
perhaps even more so now,
precious and holy for its scars
Written by LunaGreyhawk (Jenn_Leigh)
Published
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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