My heart is made of most fragile glass.
One false move and it can become millions of tiny little pieces.
Yet somehow you managed to break it little by little.
Until finally you left me to pick up the pieces.
The scars on my fingers from the sharp shards of my heart leave a bittersweet reminder of that day.
I kept my heart locked up inside.
Carefully put into a glass jar.
Each day after it slowly began to heal.
Covered in glue and tape.
Everyday became easier.
I became stronger.
Just when I was almost done healing.
You came back.
Except this time you broke my heart all at once.
After, I couldn't heal.
Everyday became harder.
I became weaker.
Until finally, I put myself to rest.
An internal slumber where my heart can no longer be broken.
YOU ARE READING
In a Nuthshell
PoetryPretty much everything I've gone through, have thought of, or have felt in a nutshell. All are poems written by me and should not be used unless given permission to.
