I was the stained glass; beautiful, yet fragile.
And you were the bat that broke me; heartless.
You made it hard to love you when my only intention was to do just that.
You were a steady image of perfection, but now your hands are stained with the blood from you breaking my heart. You are the spitting image of a murder; you killed what could've been.
YOU ARE READING
Let Me Go
Poetry"Maybe this is what we've needed all along. Distance from everything else, and closeness to eachother."
