Dear Esther,
I am defined by the crack lines on my stained surface,
Awaiting my shattered fate
Why, my heart is made of porcelain,
And they've thrust it over the line,
Before terror's gates
Bits and pieces,
Are streamed on the ground,
While they sit in vain,
Adorned with royal crowns
Are you alright?
Some would ask every once in a while,
As I faked a smile
Oh, force a mock grin on my lips;
Hide those daunting scars on my wrists
I struggle to pick up those fragments on the floor,
Closer to entering the final door
You can't mend a broken vase;
Neither can you conceal those obvious cuts
It's too late;
Alas, my soul would be able to take a break.
Quinn
Hey there, you beautiful souls! Thank you so much for 4K reads and for all your endless support! I'm so sorry that it's been ages since I've updated, but I really hope you'd still be willing to read the story! Can you believe that Christmas's coming so soon? I've decided to make this story half poetry (the first part), and half short-story (the second part)! What do you guys think? Have a wonderful day ahead! Xx
~kelly
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...
