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Broken
June 17, 2014
Like a knife to the heart
Or a bullet to the brain
I'm stabbed with the guilt and
Barely suffer through the pain.
I'm failing inside
My thoughts are bare
No matter how I try
My heart just isn't there.
Compared to a wilting rose
I'm too fragile to hold
My bones are weak and shaking
My fingertips are cold.
I'm crumbling to nothingness
My body shrivels to dirt
And after one final breath
I no longer feel the hurt.
© Jessica F., Bradford, MA
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