You were glass and I touched you even though I knew well in my head that your sharp edges, and jagged ends would cut straight through my delicate skin. I caressed you with a touch ever so soft as your broken parts inflicted damage upon my fingertips, dripping blood on your favorite white t-shirt, and tears and screams of trying too hard etched amongst the walls that surrounded your heart.
You still screamed that you didn't understand why fire engine blood spilt over, staining the shirt your mother gave you. enraged like a five year old whose favorite candy just flew from one end to the other as he tripped and scraped his knee. you made me the victim, shouting profanities and cursing words that left sharp daggers in my heart, but I still apologized inbetween coughs and sighs of tears and blood.
My apologizes were pleas of excuses and mumbles of things I tried so hard on, the list went on and on as I apologized even if I poured my soul out and completely shattered whatever was left of me trying to fix you.
You were glass and I set out on a venture to pick you up with nothing but my bare skin and clumsy grip.
It was my mistake, always my mistake.
-a.e.g.h
