deepundergroundpoetry.com

Brittle

I remember the times i would like to forget.
I look back with regret while my palms start to sweat.

Innocence isn’t embraced but rather looked back at when lost.
My innocence was taken, hate given in return for free at my cost.

Brittle.
Even now while i’ve grown.
Still little.
Written by Skyra
Published
Author's Note
I want to thank a special person i met here for helping me build up the courage to post.
You know who you are :)
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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