That's the thing about you, you never thought twice about ripping me open. Not about searching for all the gold and shelter I had to give. I guess it is all my fault though, I gave so much and only asked for your hand to hold.
You couldn't even give me that so here I am. Sewing up the hole you left, a place I still dare to call my soul.
You left me as a depleted field, not a blossoming flower in sight. I now wait to grow. I wait for the sun and the rain. I pray the next wandering soul will be kinder. Will be gentler. Will find home in the place you grew tired of.
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About the Creator
Samantha Darling
A poet & lover of language
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