Short Poems

24

He told me I was perfect, that I didn't need to change anything.

He made me feel beautiful, but then he began seeing my flaws, and his eyes grew colder as he realized perfection is a lie, and that I was far from it.

From the scars on my wrists, to the tears in my eyes, I would never be perfect, so he left me, carving in more impurities, as he broke my perfect heart.

- s.d.r