Dear Esther,
Oh, I've become broken pottery,
Attacked by the millions of slanders that swim in the sea
I'm a disfigured building block,
Trying to fit in,
Foolishly chasing the wind;
Hopeless dreams
I've been trapped in the shadows,
For too long
Withering along with fading flowers,
In a dead meadow
It's too late,
To mend my fragile porcelain soul;
For time has grown,
Far too old...
Quinn
YOU ARE READING
shards of the heart
Poetry❝the scars that screamed of revolutions inside her head and the shards that made up her heart were things that no one saw.❞ suffering from a terrifying eating disorder and from a shattered home, quinn's greatest tormentor is imperfection. her world...
