Fragmented hope.

Circa 2011. Lots of lovely depressing pieces from that era. This is one of them.

Worn, cold, limited.

Bold, bare, skinless.

So many words, countless thoughts,

Yet my views remain unfinished.

Minutes count for hours,

And I tend to feel like a coward.

One that is rough,

Rough to the touch.

Broken to the bone.

Broken to the core,

And the fragments lie alone.