Untitled (currently)

A descriptive piece with a nostalgic flair. Still needs a title!

I sit in the broken chair,
rickety-ed by a thousand or
maybe just two shattered
memories,
only scraps of faded images
bitter fragrances.
Splint wood
ruptures, entangles into
a one by two thorn
pricks that are only a pointed
emotion or figments of
a history.
Lonely and wrinkled with creases
deepened of a heartbreak romance,
she sits

and continues to live.