I have had a taste of heaven. Like dew drops and lilacs, like the first fresh petal of a rose being plucked from the stem. Heaven has poured from my lips and escaped me forever. I may try to keep it in but mortal methods may never yield results. I was left strewn on the floor like the rose who’s petals had been plucked one by one, as I fell into a deepening self hatred. Destroyed. I had managed to destroy heaven, to destroy my roses, destroy my perfect lilacs. I could never sleep, for when I woke it would all be a dream, and though I may beg, no one would ever tell me they would hurt anyone who dare wake me. I had been left to pick up my pieces. My hands bloodied, painful, dotted with shards. I couldn’t pick up my pieces this time but no one was there to do it for me. 


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