Glass

It's so silent you could
Cut the air,
Cut it up
into a million pieces,
Pick up the shards
with your hands,
thousands
of lost wishes.

Can you weigh
the silence
in your bony hands,
Can you feel the cold,
hard glass
against your fingernails.

by Paper Cut

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Comments (1)

This is an interesting piece of work. I like the concept. Thanks.