My knees bled from our shards of broken.
My knees bled from our shards of broken.  poetry stories
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avijd23
avijd23my life in poems
Autoplay OFF  •  8 months ago
Broken Glass

My knees bled from our shards of broken.

I fell to the ground to pick up YOUR pieces.

I hurt myself to clean YOUR mess.

But I called them OURS.

And I put them back together like they were MINE.

All the while you watched me bleed and did nothing to heal me afterwards.

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