a poem of the broken ones hurt and shattered |
she holds on clinging for her sanity but slowy losing this battle she is a mirror broken and shattered no longer useful in this worlds cold eyes what once was a bright soul is nothing but a flicker this worlds cruel torture and relentlessness has left her what she is now cut bruised bloddy and broken yet no marks are seen on her body save the ones that are self inflicted no matter how well you put the mirror back together peices will be missing lost and forgotten no more perfect reflection just a craked twisted dimmer view she looks into the mirror and sees what she is, broken no more tears fall, no more mourning just lifelessness cold and alone a glass shell frail and cracked, useless a painted window no one sees in , and she dosent see out her soul rests in the shell on the broken mirror that she is eyes glossed, skin cold, no breath no warming heatbeat just... nothing, she has shattered for good, tossed aside she has nothing left as her body lays on the red blood soaked broken mirror surrounded by only one thing that understands her and will take her away from this hell. death |