I never knew how to ever start writing poems
the stanzas are either too little
or too much
sometimes I give up all together
and lay in my room or stare at the stars in the night sky
(if there were any)

but one thing I do know
is how small the fragments of a broken heart can be
how it shatters and obliterates even before it hits
how the edges are never sharp, but always smooth and worn out
its sad how oblivious the world is
to someone who just got their heart broken
by the one they trusted the most.