Poems

Broken Things

Time cannot heal
The Eternally Wounded.
The pain,
Self-hate,
Only dulls,
Never leaves.
Lost I was
Depending on whispered words.
Slowly trudging,
Through my personal river of tears.
Duller and duller,
Becomes the ache.
As slowly,
Surely,
I come to believe,
That there's still Beauty
In Broken Things.

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StILl UpSEtTiNg
-Raene-