I cannot speak despite my voice
Though I struggle to make the choice
I crumble to my swollen knees
And then begin to almost hope
This tiny shattered heart of mine
This tiny shattered green glass heart
Would someday beat again.

I crumble to the ground
And hope in vain perhaps
For love to come my way

I am mute despite my fame
The walls collapse and my past is seen again

I try to pray, but those clouds get in my way
Yes, those clouds– that are shaped like razor blades.
Mute, I struggle
Despite having wings.

-S.S. Heart

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