two halves, they form a pair
each as pretty as the last
jagged ends and tattered edges
carrying memories of the past
two halves, they form a heart
perfectly imperfect
bringing explosions and collisions
but no love is perfect
two halves, they're me and you
struggling to get it right
but everyone knows this love is failing
and it's doomed to die
x
we were two halves that didn't fit right, no matter how hard we tried
YOU ARE READING
travels
PoetryAnd in my travels, I met several people. And they changed my life irrevocably.