Broken pieces.
Stone heart.
Deep cuts.
Bad scars.
Don't let them see.
Don't let them in.
They'll make it worse
or get it too.
Burnt.
Bruised.
Pierced.
Hurt.
These are words
that I used to live by,
but I picked up the pieces
and softened up.
The wounds healed.
The scars faded.
I let them in.
I let them see.
They put out the flames
that burnt me.
They helped me through it
and I survived.
{ October 2015 }
YOU ARE READING
Black And White
PoetrySeeing a Black And White world is a form of naiveté. A beautifully, chaotic way of seeing a world covered in nothing but grey.
