Glass Bones & Paper Skin
Look right through,
I'm paper-thin,
I'm pale as snow
with icy skin.
Crash right through,
I'm made of glass,
down to my bones,
the weakest mass.
So breakable,
resting in your hand,
but you just dropped me-
I don't understand.
Fragile, sickly, losing quickly,
lying in shatters on the floor;
alone, afraid, and paper-thin,
I'm not the same anymore.