broken glass litters the ground along with my broken future,
broken past,
we can fix it, you tell me
your shaking fingers wrap around the fragmented pieces of what used to be usable,
they slip through your grasp
I'm slipping.
the glass is a jigsaw with missing pieces,
incomplete,
it always will be.
shattered glass,
a fractured soul,
I am not fixable.
YOU ARE READING
Late Night Thoughts
Poetry["I'm lost in a forest of thoughts and the trees are in flames."] Poems of some sort and thoughts and feelings and questions that will never be answered. Highest ranking: 73rd in poetry - 23.2.16 *cover made by @-misadventures*
