I'm unravelling.
Some spots of me are
Worn thin from constant
Use, becoming threadbare.
Loose ends stick out of my
Skin, catching occasionally.
The strings on my heart
Seem to have snagged
On you,
But I don't mind.
This tangled mess in my
Chest has become simply
A leash,
And you are my holder.
Some spots of me are
Worn thin from constant
Use, becoming threadbare.
Loose ends stick out of my
Skin, catching occasionally.
The strings on my heart
Seem to have snagged
On you,
But I don't mind.
This tangled mess in my
Chest has become simply
A leash,
And you are my holder.
This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.
alymarie3
FunTimes
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