There's no greater pain,
than tryingto mend what was broken.
You may put it back toegter,
but it will never be the same.
I once caught myself,
Staring at the person who broke me to pieces.
I wonder why he never tried to put me back together,
But then, every ounce of me long for him.
I fall hard on the ground,
That every bits of me shattered.
I pick up the pieces slowly,
But I still ended up hurting myself with my own fragments.
Because loving someone is letting yourself be fragile.
Either to be loved or to be broken.
Jun 15, 2015
Jun 15, 2015 at 1:25 AM UTC
There's no greater pain,
than tryingto mend what was broken.
You may put it back toegter,
but it will never be the same.
I once caught myself,
Staring at the person who broke me to pieces.
I wonder why he never tried to put me back together,
But then, every ounce of me long for him.
I fall hard on the ground,
That every bits of me shattered.
I pick up the pieces slowly,
But I still ended up hurting myself with my own fragments.
Because loving someone is letting yourself be fragile.
Either to be loved or to be broken.
Request permission to use this poem