There are trinkets on my windowsill,
On my bookshelf and my desk.
There are cards covering my dresser,
Teddies smothering my bed.
You laced me with material items
And showered me in love,
And now the sun dances over unworn necklaces
Dormant on my shelves.
You gave me a ring,
Showed me true passion,
Gave me a year of unconditional love.
The warranty on the ring is still valid,
But we, unlike it, are not.
You stormed into my heart
And smashed up my mind,
You left traces of me for someone else to find,
I am shattered like glass
All over the ground
Except no one wants to pick up my pieces.
You were the glue that held me together,
The light that shone through the broken window.
You were my everything, my only
And now all I have
are trinkets.
YOU ARE READING
Dark Poetry
PoetryMy random pieces of poetry, both inspired by depression and the happiness that makes me fight on.
