I was falling, then he arrived. He was a shard of hope that I held onto, but I was still slipping. I realized his shards of hope were cutting my hands. Before I could act, the fragile dream shattered. I fell even deeper,the glass gouging into my skin. Tears mixed with blood and I, I hit my breaking point.
YOU ARE READING
A bunch of self written poems/ short stories
PoetryLiterally just the title Everything is self written A lot of this is edgy venting uwu
