Fragile 


To fight until there’s
nothing left,
I gave it my last breath.

It crumbled,
faded,
withered,
and died.

Like porcelain,
it was fragile,
and weak,
it creaked,
it pealed,
it spelt its ink.

Like an emotional poem,
it burnt the parchment paper,
it curled itself up inside my heart
scratching deep at the walls,
until I had to allow it
to leap free.

I fought until there was nothing left of me.

© 2017 Amanda D Shelton

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