Submissions by drunkcaterpillar

She was a broken glass seeking fullness,
hoping someone someday might see her for more than a means to relieve their thirst.

I think he hates me
He definitely loves me but I sense a part of his heart sustains an amount of hatred he may not care to acknowledge
I care
I care about a lot of things
Like the ladybugs trapped in my bedroom window or the flowers in the front yard
About the way my hair falls against my face or whether or not the buttons on my jeans match the tone of my jewelry
I care about clean sheets, perfectly stacked sandwiches, smooth calves and soft shoulders - the way he likes them
But I also care about the scars on my arms and my hips and my thighs
I care...