the combustions are meant to pass by
a few words can drizzle my mind
it hits the core and snaps the rope
I fall into a pit, dusty and fragile
no one had a soul of me in their head,
even if they did, they'd only think shallow
If I was an angel
I would buy a ring
my feelings won't feel disabled
we craddle while we seek
you're so fucking weak.
YOU ARE READING
broad shoulders
Poetrythese are the poems I have written throughout my teen years. I have written these poems within very dark times. the poems include the hardships of a sufferer of ptsd battling their relationship with love and past abuse. a deep dive in the mind of a...
