It feels like the end,
But at some point
The shards stop stabbing,
And the pain stops throbbing,
And suddenly all is dull until
Someone makes your heart pound again.
Hopefully it can withstand that kind of
Pressure, this old heart of yours.
For if it can, it will only continue to heal...
Building a second skin of sorts
Over all the scars until it’s a
Lumpy, yet functional, mess.
lmt

As she sat staring aimlessly
At the scattered shards of herself,
She realized she needed to pick up the pieces…
But where could she even begin?
lmt