She was just so brittle—
An ancient vase with delicate,
Bursting hand-made designs
With a spectrum of vibrant colors,
Faded with old age. Kill me as I
Accidentally push her off the edge and
Watch her crash into a million
Tiny, lifeless pieces
That used to hold the memories of
A loving woman, so gentle and free
But under the hard hand of society.
She never wished to die so soon,
But her time came and she must have
Seen him from the peripheral—
Must have expected Death himself
To take her away to a brighter place
Where no one could disturb her vase.