Etched Glass

A Poem by Zella Syzygy

about me, to you.

I am made of glass.
My bones are sugar cubes.
My heart is jolly ranchers.
My blood is ice cream.
My soul is made up of cinnamon, honey, and starlight.

I am fragile.
I am a beautifully sculpted statue.
Please no flash photography.
Keep hands off.
Im beautiful to look at.
But not to build and put time into.

I am nice to taste,
But not a nice meal.
Im delicious and fulfilling sometimes,
but too much of me and you'll get sick.

Im only wanted every now and then.
Only when you get a craving.
Im not essentail for your health.
You could cut me out and be better.

They say there are real men who can eat glass without a single scratch.
I can confirm thats true.
The chew, and mangle, and completely destroy the glass without a single problem.
They pride themselves on it.

Now as months pass
Men destroy more glass.
And everyone is amazed.

As glass sits there
broken
mangled
destroyed
but wow wasnt it so sweet.