Maybe love wasn't made for people like us,
Cupid doesn't shoot the dead, and we?
we are just cold rotten corpses that will never breathe again
A cold case that will never be solved
And a body that will never be found.
YOU ARE READING
Fragments
Poetry"Everyone's playing checkers with their scars, saying checkmate whenever they get out without a broken heart. Just to be clear I don't want to get out without a broken heart. I intend to leave this life so shattered there's gonna have to be a thousa...
