"So I looked down and stared,
at the pieces,
Broken.
Of me.
And I took them,
As I knelt,
The bits of me.
I realized,
The wounds,
Like all love's wounds,
Would never heal."
YOU ARE READING
Poetry for the heartless and heartbroken
PoetryMy poetry dwells in the infinite sadness of the broken and the heartless.
Poem 32
"So I looked down and stared,
at the pieces,
Broken.
Of me.
And I took them,
As I knelt,
The bits of me.
I realized,
The wounds,
Like all love's wounds,
Would never heal."
