I was in knots when you came around. You sat down and I waited for you to untie them, one by one.
Soon scissors rest in your hand, all too comfortable.
And I watched in dazed horror as you wildly snipped away my identity, I was unrecognizable.
I was your arts and craft project.
And now I'm just a fragmented girl, mourning over the pieces of me you took.
YOU ARE READING
The Art Of Becoming Fearless
PoetryShort poems written by a girl who loves to live fearlessly but is petrified of everything
