Ice

She collects the tears

Has done for years

In small glass bottles

Each,

A memento of things

The memory of which sears

Her soul.

 

Tears become crystals become jewels solid

Frozen

Hardened by the pain

By screams that pierce sky

And cloud.

 

To whoever she meets, she gives one

A gift of her own being

Here are my tears,

Here is my life

Here are the scars of me

Here are my bleeding cuts

That bleed with no blood.

 

Whomever receives

The frozen tear she gives

Sees in it her agony

Sees it in the glass

Lives again the life

Of she whose life is

A single line from

The age-long book

Of tragedy.

 

Go

Leave now

Walk away with my tears

Walk away with winds that blow within me

Walk away

With what my terrified heart rains.

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