Crevices in my soulYou could have seen right through me,
What with all those crevices in my soul.
By God, she healed me,
Sealed every last one with a kiss.
Mine was a troubled, wreaked soul,
Having been battered and tortured,
Engulfed by hatred and contempt,
And remnants of what once was love.
A dry soul.
A brittle soul.
Poetry by Advice
Read 300 times
Written on 2016-02-13 at 21:42
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