When you splintered
shards of your glass lodged in me
I can still feel their contours
The heart is a muscle
Every beat has accommodated these sharp edges
At first it hurt so much
I thought I would die
Perhaps I did
Perhaps there is no one at home
but my lodger
Aug 18, 2021
Aug 18, 2021 at 2:46 AM UTC
When you splintered
shards of your glass lodged in me
I can still feel their contours
The heart is a muscle
Every beat has accommodated these sharp edges
At first it hurt so much
I thought I would die
Perhaps I did
Perhaps there is no one at home
but my lodger