© 2003 Black Tangled Heart
She's fragile and soft
you want to hold her close
She has skin like porcelain and tear-filled eyes
She wears a pretty gossamer dress that hides
her rib bones and her scars.
She sings a quiet, mournful song;
you see the torture etched upon her face and blood stains
on her milk-white hands.
You want to release her from the pain that grips her, but you can't.
She sings her broken song
inside a gilded cage, away
from your compassionate fingertips, away from a key
to pry open the lock that imprisons her.
You can watch her suffer, but you can never set her free.