Dead diary 

 

I feel damaged.. 

Frail; a burnt piece of paper.. 

Brittle, wounded edges.. 

As if I'd crumble to the touch or slight breeze.. 

Resist or let it sweep me away?

Becoming nothing but ashes in the wind 

Some would only see the deepened gray of my specks; dust 

Others may find beauty in my reflection of the stale sun; glitter

What would I make of life then?

Free without restraints.. 

 

#slams