Hear the heart[break]
and soon
the heart[ache]
will settle
in the dusk of noon[afternoon].

My blood glows[shines]
like the sun
that falls down,
along with my broken[shattered]
heart on the ground.

You blow me away[gone]
on the wind,
like I'm made
of feathers,
and I don't matter.
You threw me
like I was a doll,
at the corner[edge]
of the room
because my face
was unfamiliar
and I'm
smudged with tears on me;
my lifeless, face always smiling at you.

You played[toyed]
with my heart
like I was a toy,
that you were amused in,
but soon lost interest
and put me under your bed;
forgetting me.

I'm just a ballerina[dancer]
who's trapped,
behind glass walls[barriers];
who keeps on dancing[moving],
despite the strength
she's losing
in her legs
and the pain
in her feet.

Or I'm just the moth
who flies at night
or the "pathetic" butterfly
that soars,
garbed in grey
and clothed in black
and streaked with mud,
from last night's rain.