I could watch you break apart piece by piece till all the pieces that made you were at my feet. I would enjoy the sound of your soul hitting the ground. It would sound like hail as it pelts the ground with a willingness to die. A need for finality as shattered self meets shattered moment. Would I glue you back together and lie to your face about retained worth? Or instead admit that something is now gone. Dead and buried. Never to be had again.



40 thoughts on “Broken

  1. Pingback: Gifts of Reading Online | A Layering of Perception

  2. Nice one J.
    Weird… I wrote a song today ( no lyrics ) called ‘broken’ – these words kinda match. (how bizarre that two things called the same thing might actually seem to sync up O_- lol)
    Hope all good your end bud.


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