Breathe. Cry. Breathe. Sigh. Sob.
My heart is cracking into a million pieces. I’m losing sight of myself. Or am I gaining myself. Is this the fire of change? Or torment. Transition? Or crucifixion. My heart, it pounds. Faster, faster, ever faster. It’s going to beat out of my chest. Will someone be there to pick it up? Longing. Pain. Sadness. Weight of a million worlds, a million tears, a thousand years of hurt, on my heart. My poor, breaking heart. My heart, who has given its all, has been deserted. It longs to be picked up, and nurtured, and held, and loved. Only I can hold my heart right now. It is so very lonely. Alone. Just me and my heart. It was breaking for so long, and it has finally broken. How will I find all its pieces so that I might put it together again. Pain, aching, breaking. So many tears. Tears of loss. Tears of not being someone’s center. Of living on the outskirts of their universe. Do you know how lonely that is? Living outside the bubble of someone’s happiness? Forever floating in the waters of uncertainty, never to be thrown a life raft. Their boat has sailed away. I must continue floating, searching, hoping for rescue. Keep swimming until I reach the shore. Any shore. I yearn to have solid ground under my feet. That is all I ask for. Solid ground.
Solid ground
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