I'm a murderer,
I killed my heart
Now when people call me happy,
I'm just playing with the shards.
-Autumn
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This came to me out of the blue yesterday. It doesn't rhyme, exactly. But slant rhymes count, right? ;)
YOU ARE READING
Hiraeth
PoetryHireath: (n) A homesickness for a home you can't return to, or that never was. For the home I haven't yet returned to. ***************************** A book of poems and the occasional response to writing prompts. Or both. My es...
