You turned trust into
something I can't hold.
You bent my compass
into a question mark,
so it never points
to a safe place.
Of all the things you broke,
that's the one I still
can't forgive you for.
I never learned the rules about meter or metaphor, or what not to say out loud. I just write what lives inside me: the bruises, the blossoms...
No comments:
Post a Comment