I. She was a wide-eyed wonder with 
   a virgin neck of porcelain. 
   Her body did not know what it was like
   to be dropped on the concrete. 

II. You’d put her in your pocket
    while you walked, wrapped
    in bubble wrap and styrofoam, and
    only exposed her
    when you needed the time. 
    But you’d always wrap her up again; 
    you could never be too careful. 

III. All this 
    wrapping and unwrapping has become
    tedious, and your
    fingerprints are fogging up her eyes
    anyway, so maybe there’s
    no point. 

IV. You walk with her in your palm; swinging
     your arms to 
     the rhythm of her breath. 
     She’s covered 
     in stickers and flower 
     thorns. 

V. She slips from your fingers and
    hits the ground. 
    Shards of her veins
    explode on the pavement. 
    Her eyes glaze over–sticky
    with your fingerprints. 
    Her neck is covered in 
    blossoming violets and roses
    you willed to bloom with 
    your breath. 
    Her hands are
    cold and cracked. 

VI. She is too far
     beyond repair, 
     and all you know how to do
     is destroy. 

VII.You step on her and
     walk away.