"Her wound never healed,
not a scar or a patch of sensitivity,
it was just hidden under covers,
unspoken and pretending it resolved like finished tears.
His three words were just salt
to a everlasting wound."
- n/a
YOU ARE READING
Missing Pieces
Poetrya random collection, a sort of cohesion, of mental chaos and emotion. most of it was written years ago and is now nothing but a stamp in time, a reminder of who i was. enjoy !
