Nojoto: Largest Storytelling Platform

Maybe the shrapnel of your sharp words scarred my

Maybe the shrapnel
of your sharp words
scarred my soul.

But wouldn't the shards
of my broken heart
scar your conscience?

But alas! I have a soul.
You don't have a conscience.

Once again,
even as we part,
we're never even. A broken heart is an implosion. 
Not an explosion.
Maybe the shrapnel
of your sharp words
scarred my soul.

But wouldn't the shards
of my broken heart
scar your conscience?

But alas! I have a soul.
You don't have a conscience.

Once again,
even as we part,
we're never even. A broken heart is an implosion. 
Not an explosion.