Other № 146862
Dedication
Your words they sting,
the cut I feel,
the poisoned blade of hardend steel
rips right through my heart and soul;
Tears me up and leaves me raw.
I taste your anger,
feel your pain,
your hurt and sorrow
is my shame.
What I've done
I know won't mend
the shredded remains
of a treasured friend.
1 comment
Are you killing yourself? If not, what have you done to mend the shredded remains of a treasured friend? At least, the way you've phrased it, you're implying you've done something _towards_ mending things.
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