Why is it that when we look in mirrors
We can never see our eyes move?
Perhaps we are just porcelain dolls
With glass eyes
Stuck in a glass case

But you remind me we are not;
Not on display for the world.
Yet, we are fragile
Though not made of glass
No, much more fragile things
Like trust
and love

My heart is made of glass
And you've just dropped it
On a solid, concrete floor

Where is the broom?
Where's the trash?
I'll just throw my heart away
Rather than try to glue it back together again.

After all, what's the point?

Too many pieces
Too small
Glue still leaves a bit of space
Space that reminds me of the hurt.

Perhaps it's better this way
I'll pretend
To be a porcelain doll by the door
With the shattered glass heart