Apr 26
what are your hands covered in?
glass.
shards of material scratch your skin, cuts bleeding sluggishly onto your knees. you try to rub the blood away, but only smear it into your skin. will it stain? you've given up, haven't you? it got to be too much, and these pieces of you fractured apart because you can not comprehend seeing your own reflection, who you truly are. you cradle the cracked pieces close, now cold to the touch, and wonder why you let so much go. is it not the way of the world to drift and push away?
tagged by. @inheritable tagging. whoever's reading this.