How can I write, if he took my hands with him.
How can I walk, when he used to carry me to bed.
How can I stand, when he gave me strength.
He put me high, upon a pedestal.
So high that I could almost see eternity.
Now I don't have anywhere to go.
~Hannah
YOU ARE READING
Better Off Said.
PoetryA book of quotes and poems I've made. The smiles and tears. Throughout the years. I pore my mind into this book. For your eyes to take a look. Stories of just a teenager. Hurt. Pain. Trauma. Love. What life has for all of us.
