i was aware of how broken i was.
i was shattered and broken.
the edges of me were sharp,
and i had lost some pieces of me,
stolen by those who i thought
i could trust.
i was painfully aware of it.
but you came along,
and you wanted to fix me.
you wanted to fill in the pieces,
the pieces that i once lost.
all of the sudden,
i was a puzzle with a missing piece,
and you would do anything to
find the last piece.
but don't you know?
sometimes incompleteness is its own beauty.
YOU ARE READING
Almost | ✓
PoetryIsn't that the saddest word? Almost. Something with so much potential... but just didn't happen. We were almost lovers. We almost lived. These were almost stories. ●●● [ a collection of poems ] highest ranking: #3 [[ 08_03_16 ]]
