"Why do you have so many scars?"
Well you see,
I am as clumsy as the sea.
Stumbling into an ocean of trouble
and drowning in my own disease.
I've fallen into a puddle of hurt
and crashed into a pit of despair.
I've scraped my knees on harsh words,
and poured people's lies upon the open wound.
Hoping to heal something deeper than my skin and bones.
YOU ARE READING
Withered Words
PoetryMy words are withered because they suck. A collection of some of my poems. If they're poems at all. (:
