Falling in slow motion.
a beating in your chest.
A cracked glass doll against,
the stormy wind.
With each breath comes
the memories you pushed far
You cannot escape
not from yourself
And so live on your fire
and polished razorblades
Raise your glass and
tear your fraigle heart
An set of broken mirrors
the jagged pieces along the floor
There’s a thousand of you
when one is too much
They say time will heal
but time is a if’y term
A moment, an hour…
Your last dying breath…
When you realize
it was a mistake.
YOU ARE READING
Poetry
PoetryHey, this Is a collection of poetry I've been writing since 2010. I promise it's better toward the end, being that's my more recent stuff. So feel welcome to skip forward, read it backwards or whatever you'd like:)
