our souls were on different paths
no intention of crossing
yet they did.
two broken souls, both needing to be fixed
we found comfort in each other
slowly healing
holding onto the hope we could tape each-others pieces back together
yet we couldn’t.
our souls were on different paths
yet they intertwined with each other.
loving someone’s broken pieces hurts.
and love doesn’t end in happiness if someone decides to stop writing.
only one of us wanted to continue our story
the other threw their pencil away and tore up the papers
and i was left to pick up the pieces.
About the Creator
Harley
Hi, im 18 years old currently in college working towards my bachelors degree in English, inspiring to become an author. :)
Toichophobia
If walls could talk…ah, but that’s not the proper question now, is it? It’s never been about whether walls can talk, but rather who is willing to listen. For the tales we have to tell are infinite, whispered from the drywall that only the most sensitive of souls ever perceive.
By Kelly Robertson5 days ago in Fiction
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