The Heartstrings of an Angel

Never mend my broken heart. I want it the way it is: shattered and very much of a worry. This way, I can make myself believe that trusting it won’t help me find real sanity. For whenever I love, I get downed and hopeless. Depression kills me.

This entry was posted on Sunday, March 18th, 2007 at 12:14 am and is filed under love.nothings.hopes.jawbreakers.. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can skip to the end and leave a response. Pinging is currently not allowed.