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Rated: XGC · Poetry · Dark · #1649856
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



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