If there were a color to my bones,
They'd be black,
Black, and ashy,
They'd have shards missing,
Cracks and breaks,
Because I'm brooken,
Physically, mentally, emotionally,
I'm not right,
Old on the inside,
I'm worn down,
Nobody wants a broken body to love,
Not even another broken body its self,
Could love a worn down body like mine,
Everyone wants something new,
And I,
Am far from that something new.
