I retrace the steps of our memories. Through new eyes the sight before me makes me sad, untold stories of what we were and what we could have been. I cruelly left you in the sharp shards of my broken heart, claiming brokenness was the reason I could not let you mend me.
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The Art of Mending A Broken Heart
Short StoryI don't think it's about finding myself as much as it is about remaking myself. I had been this girl for awhile, and then I started changing. Heading in a new direction blindfolded. I think it's time to take the blindfold off and create myself with...
