she held herself together with thin stitches, barely kept her head above water. she would lie down to sleep and all her pieces came undone; she'd cut her fingers trying to hold them together, terrified of losing them, would spill over her bed, would wake up in the morning and do it all again.
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Monsters Are Human
PoetryShe was poetry in a world still learning the alphabet. [ Just poems I found on Tumblr.] [ I do not own any of these!! ] [ The first few are horse poems. But it gets better. ] #230 in Poetry - 1 June 2016