there might be a point at which a heart has nothing left to break
a fragile feeling, being made of crystal that used to sing
but only if touched gently and consistently...
i told her my heart had finally been broken too many times-
that truth resonated and filled what is left of me but didn't hurt
the world has too much suffering to be saved from human disrespect
the last seed of hope was crushed in someone's teeth instead of planted
the phoenix turned out to be a plain grey bird up close
there is no return or repair or revolution
only walking resolutely forward into the smoldering fire
anticipating pain, hoping for empty darkness at the end
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