I bet you wish you had never told me to stay, looking back.
We're shattered into pieces and I think I'm catching myself on fire.
I don't know how to play with fire, so it rages.
I'm consumed.
I can barely see you through the red
I can barely hear you through the entropy
Maybe... Maybe I can feel you through the heat and wind.
I think it's just my imagination toying with me.
I bet you wish you had never told me to stay.
Cause now I'm on fire and it's spread to you.
You hate me for it.
I'm sorry.
YOU ARE READING
Just A Broken Thing
PoetryThese are the thoughts and feelings that go through the mind of a young, broken girl. She doesn't make sense and doesn't expect you to make any out of it.
