I guess this starts out like every other love story.
But maybe not.
Because this is how we sunk.
Hit so hard,
Oh, so, so hard.
Not how we floated.
Not how we sailed.
Not how the seagulls sang above us.
Because this is how the wind whipped our faces,
And the scars have yet to heal.
(Please note that this is not provoking or approving an abusive relationship. If you are currently experiencing abuse of any kind, please seek help and contact T.E.A.R (Teens experiencing abusive relationships), an organization that can help stop this. Caution: trigger warnings.)
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Wrecked
PoetryWreck/[rek]/Noun A person of ruined health; someone in bad shape physically or mentally. It's funny how I look back now and realize that maybe I still love him. That maybe I still love the real him. Not the one who did it for the money and the s...
