© 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.