Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jan 2016
And maybe we were made of the same pieces, and that is why every time I broke down all the **** broken pieces I saw you lying in my mess, and that is why every time I look in the mirror I see pieces of you that fill the holes in my chest as if you poured your soul into me.
Written by
ZHR
154
   Wandering soul
Please log in to view and add comments on poems