Broken Down
No matter the mileage or maintenance, we all eventually break down.
I promise with all my heart that I tried.
It might not have been perfect.
I might have had my secrets and my lies.
In the end they came out struggling.
Like some sort of hateful parasite.
For years you wrote your anger of me and your songs for him.
I even cheered you by your side and helped you with your lines.
But why now at this time does it come as a surprise?
That my heart can be broken with nothing left to give.
Am I not allowed to dream, to hope, to live?
About the Creator
Chris Santiago
I've always found a bit peace and release in putting word to written medium. I'm by no means an accomplished wordsmith but I find enjoyment in it. My love for writing started from world building that being a dungeon master provided.
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The Piggy Project
I’ve had so many names in this life I lose track of which ones were ever really mine and which ones I wore because someone needed me to. Some were handed to me before I had words to refuse them, before I knew what they meant, before I knew I could say no. Most weren’t meant to hurt. That doesn’t mean they didn’t leave marks. Marks that told me who I belong to, who I am by way of who claims me, recognizes me in the good and bad, who walks beside me.
By Fatal Serendipitya day ago in Confessions
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