i walked into the house seeing someone broke my most fragile glass.
i was hurt deeply and i am trying to pick them up. i am picking them up for years now.
as i picked up these broken glasses,
i felt someone helping me.
minutes, hours, days.
and you still helped me pick them up,
being determined to stick them together.
i trusted you to not cut yourself and get through the hurt. i trusted you to touch those glasses and help me. and i trusted you too much, because after it almost fixed you made it fall down, and it got broken.
you stand up, walked out the door, and sorry, was the last word i heard from you.
but you weren't sorry for what you did, you were sorry that i found out and saw.
