ImperfectionsA Poem by EmilyThis one is pretty self-explanatory.
It was her wrists.
They were beautiful. They were like a porcelain doll's. But they were cracked, broken. Imperfect. And then there was his wrists. They were clean. They were perfect. They were a symbol of what she wanted to be. Imperfect but eternally happy. <3
© 2013 EmilyAuthor's Note
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StatsAuthorEmilyGreensboro, NCAboutMy name is Emily. I am currently in college majoring in English and minoring in media studies. Writing is one of my many hobbies. I really hope to update this page with some of my new writing. It has .. more..Writing
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