Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Aug 2014
The broken pieces of her heart are scattered on white tiles,
sharp like glass, bathed in blood,
little pieces of herself she can't pick up;
can't cut her hands on because another slice into her skin
would **** her.

(C) 24/8/14
Courtney L
courtney
Written by
courtney
508
   Ka, Poetic T, --- and Pax
Please log in to view and add comments on poems