I II III

un

“Let me fix you” I
murmur, praying
to an unfound god.
“I’m not one of your
porcelain dolls to be
glued back together,”
you say tonelessly,
and let your hand
fall from my cheek.

deux

Every sculpture I’ve made has
broken beneath these shaky
fingertips, and no amount of
glue could make them beautiful
again. But you are more breath-
taking, in all your jagged pieces,
than any artwork whole or new,
and more tragic than my life’s
passion, scattered across the
cold floor, being replaced.

trois

You were reincarnated by
the angel from your dreams, and
are now living proof that fairytales are more
than the delusions of teenage girls. But
you left me alone, to shiver and decay,
and my heart has ceased to beat.

I II III

Lauren Andalora

Joined October 2008

  • Artist
    Notes
desktop tablet-landscape content-width tablet-portrait workstream-4-across phone-landscape phone-portrait
desktop tablet-landscape content-width tablet-portrait workstream-4-across phone-landscape phone-portrait

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