My heart lies bleeding in my hands, And though it's bruised and broken, It's battered, torn, yet all i have, So to you I give this token. This broken metronome of my soul, Is all I have left to own. I give it to you freely, so together we can watch it, As it slowly turns to stone. So take this grotesque pitiful offering, And tell me how it makes you feel. Carve upon it with your pain, Because it has wounds only you can heal.
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View more poems by Cymbeline (virgo).