They say trust is like glass
that when broken, cannot ever be the same again.
Like her trust
in me
One by one
The pieces of me shatter
into tinier and tinier pieces
Not gone, but
still there.
This cycle of apathy
is breaking her
is breaking me
and is breaking
what should have been unbreakable
Little by little, the cracks show
the gaps widen
light pours in
Harsh, white light
The blinding, reminding
harsh truth
that what we have isn't the same anymore
and will never be.
And as everything breaks
I can't idly stand by
as I lose everything I've worked for.
○●○●○●○●○●○
Magawd, now this sounds really angsty :3
What could the background behind this be, I wonder?
YOU ARE READING
Fleeting.
PoetryMoments in life are fleeting--some people use cameras to capture minuscule details through a click of a button, others through a bold stroke of paint on an empty canvas, and a couple of others through meaningful scrawls on pieces of paper. Started:...
