Tonight we began putting back together the pieces of what remained.
Glue clutched in our scabbed and scared hands that were once cut open by the jagged shards.
We both try not to think about the shattered mess but about how beautiful it will look when it's put back together.
But some the pieces are missing and the fear of finding them too late, lodged in the flesh of your feet is hard to swallow.
But we proceed, praying that we will find them before they have a chance to cut open our tender skin again.
Piece by piece we put together what remains.
YOU ARE READING
The Unknown
PoetryThe stories, poems and thoughts of a sixteen year old girl. I'll admit I put a lot of myself into this. I don't expect you to like it, this is defiantly a personal thing. so yeah, have fun.
