Love?
What is this love you speak of?
I think I knew of it when my heart was intact
Now it's just a chasm, cold and black
When he tore apart my heart
I found love was not an art
Just a thing that makes us cry
Wishing they never said good bye
YOU ARE READING
My poetry
SpiritualJust a bunch of random poetry I write. Trigger warning: May be sad, depressing or involve cutting
