And as cliched as I wish it weren't (it
Is) and as much as I wish I didn't have to 
(accept) defeat, I do. Because it's true.
I lost to you.
Maybe I'll pretend, like I didn't get to,
Before.
Maybe you'll glue my heart back together again.
But you aren't the king and you have no men.
I won't come down tumbling
Ever again.
Maybe you'd do something crazy like catch
My delicate bones before they crack
And carry them away to a place
Where the only time of day
Is no day at all.
Just the stars and the moon. And you.
Maybe you wouldn't repair my balance.
And I'd break more bones
Or damage more crucial organs.
A broken heart or a broken ear. 
Cracks and shattered pieces 
Aren't always a sure superior of preconceived,
tales and tricks.