I am broken.
But not in a sense
of a favourite coffee cup being dropped into tiny l i t t l e shards but,
like a candle that has been lit and relit using all it has to give and now is not able to work.
I am now only pretty to look at. Wanting nothing more to work, to feel the fire inside me.
Mar 19, 2018
Mar 19, 2018 at 6:26 PM UTC
I am broken.
But not in a sense
of a favourite coffee cup being dropped into tiny l i t t l e shards but,
like a candle that has been lit and relit using all it has to give and now is not able to work.
I am now only pretty to look at. Wanting nothing more to work, to feel the fire inside me.
Request permission to use this poem