Every day she puts on the glue that will hold together her broken soul, but every night the tears of her troubled heart washes it away and the broken pieces fall apart all over again. When her mind shatters, she uses the broken pieces to slice her already broken body in an attempt to feel something again. Feeling pain is better than feeling nothing at all.
CZYTASZ
Can I Keep Going?
PoezjaJust depressing poems for when I need to let thongs out. Who knows, maybe my suffering will turn into good poetry.
