I walk around feeling like a bullet wound. / like I am shot full of holes and always bleeding out. This is the type of pain that you can never find reprieve from. / I put my love and trust in a number of emotional assasins. / Well disguised as friends and lovers. / Then, in one fell swoop a wrecking ball was taken to the entirety of my life. / I quietly collected the salvagibleΒ pieces and receeded off into the shadows. / I have been clutching the shattered fragments close to my chest ever since. / sometimes it draws blood. / sometimes it makes it hard to breathe.
An excerpt from a book I will probably never write