There's nothing worse than an empty heart
The moment she leaves
A black seed starts to manifest
It grows into a vine that wraps your heart
Slowly contracting as every hour passes
You can feel the irritation of the thorns
As it leaves scars on your heart
Why did she have to leave?
YOU ARE READING
Stages of Sorrow
PoetryLife is an act. Love is a lie. She's a Fraud. Now my heart is broken.
