My shattered pieces were never his to collect. Let alone, throw away.
~badwolf143
It's vibrant outside. Summer and the heat is only rising. I've always hated the heat. I used to think it was simply because I liked the cold. I'm feeling lately that it's a mere distinguishable distaste for feeling like an undercooked french fry in every sense of the analogy.
To be so warmly lit on the outside while frozen in the center. To have been so carelessly thrown around and created to be this way yet unchanged and tossed aside.
