One day this gaping hole in my heart will no longer bleed.
Instead the sides will crust and scab.
It will not get infected, and it will not ooze.
And there will forever be an absence of what once was there.
YOU ARE READING
ballads of heartbreak
Poetry"I'm sorry that I'm like this, I'm trying my best" -essentially a diary, slight tw for being self destructive & harmful, some really good stuff crammed in with a bunch of nonsensical three am cry sessions
