I look back now at the pieces of writing I once wrote.
I realize how lost and broken I was.
But somewhere along the way, flowers started to bloom in the cracks he made.
All I needed was to allow the sunshine to come in.
I am still scarred but no longer wounded.
YOU ARE READING
Dear No One,
PoetryI dedicate this piece of writing to the part of me that died a little every day.
