she held herself together with thin stitches, barely kept her head above water. she would lie down to sleep and all her pieces came undone; she'd cut her fingers trying to hold them together, terrified of losing them, would spill over her bed, would wake up in the morning and do it all again.
YOU ARE READING
Monsters Are Human
PoetryShe was poetry in a world still learning the alphabet. [ Just poems I found on Tumblr.] [ I do not own any of these!! ] [ The first few are horse poems. But it gets better. ] #230 in Poetry - 1 June 2016
