Broken Glass

Just about life

The winds are blowing, the birds are chirping. I'm all alone in this dark corner. Looking through the window watching life pass by before my eyes. I see a face in the fog as I reach out to grab its hand. The glass shatters slicing through my hand. Blood dripping, pouring, dripping on the floor. The strong smell of hatred pour from my veins seeping into the cracks of the old rustic house. As the winds catch up to time, the glass remains in my arm. Shattered & covered in blood just like my heart. He has a wretchless, battered soul, a cold heart, not the kind to love with. I lay there still on the ground while the blood spills out of me. Laying there alone to die.