Days that I stare a little too close at the wounds,
I look the pain in the eyes and see all I was.
I see the shreds. I see the agony,
I lay in pieces, with nothing but my beating heart.
I stare at the faces of those who broke me,
And I break over again, because I still don't know why.
June, 2022. 10pm - ish.
YOU ARE READING
Something Mending -- VOL 1
PoetryOf Breaking hearts, young love, betrayal and pain. Of Mending hearts, familiar pain, unexpected hurt and aftermath. Of Healing hearts, underated heartache, pain and acceptance. Of Love, Love that is as deep sea. Pain, that knows no bounds. Strength...
