Spring Coleman

You came running back to me, but it was too late. I picked myself up, 

I ran to safety.

You were the epitome of my hurt. I bled out my heart to you.

And you left me empty, in the dark, alone.

I was stuck in the moment with you. I was drunk on the idea that you could fix me.

I broke myself fighting for us, when you walked away from the start. 

The angel consumes the empty bottles, the shattered pieces. They pierce her skin, but there is no pain.

It is only numb. 

She´s adapted to the wound, but it has stopped bleeding. 

The blood flows into the drain, like it was never there in the first place.