broken Glass

I believed that the heart was made to be broken... ...

If they tell you that I was died of sleeping pills you must know that I died of a wasting grief, of a slow bleeding at the soul...
We couldn't imagine the emptiness of a creature who put a razor to our wrists and opened our veins, the emptiness and the calm... until we do it...

I was never one to patiently pick up broken fragments and glue them together again and tell myself that the mended whole was as good as new. What is broken is broken -- and I'd rather remember it as it was at its best than mend it and see the broken places as I lived.


XOXO,
The End - Phebs