A Broken Shell.

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The final part of a broken soul is the deepest darkest blackest hole.

Without a wall or chains of hate without a fence without a gate.

A lush and perfect endless landscape peacock feathers and china plates.

Shells of life hang from the tree’s and there you’ll see completely me.

Break me here i’ll feel all pain for in my self I feel this rain.

The final part to this muddled mind and I wonder what it is you’ll find.

Karen Hayward (copyright 2015)

Published by

blossom666

Welcome to my blog! Here you will find different forms of creative writing, lots of swearing, erotic poetry, random thoughts, beautiful imagery, but most of all you will find a version of truth. My truth, this is the way that I see the world. However, all of my work is a form of creative writing, a combination of truth and fiction. I write to express my creativity, not my needs!

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