Here I stand bleeding and limping.
Shards of glass dig in with every step,
but with every step I get farther away.
My walk becomes easier.
The glass will eventually work its way out.
sweet champange intoxicating delicatly poured within the crystal men reach for the goblet ready to drink of the pure silk thirsting but left diappointed by the quick soberness
run
run so the your feet never touch the ground
leave before they realize you are gone
disappear before you become stuck
touch something
anything
before your senses die
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