My heart is angry.
While I sleep, it slithers from its place in my chest.
It attacks my stomach, the punching bag for my heart's rage.
I awake and my heart is tired; my stomach is beaten.
My soul is bruised. Nay, it is broken as my heart.
The shattered pieces of my heart, so many fragile pieces.
Some fade and die. Some pieces, like a puzzle, come back together,
but you can see the lines between: the jagged edges where i am scarred.
A thousand nails driven into my heart by his words,
21 shots fired through my chest by his actions.
One nail for every dream we would've built together,
a bullet for the memory of every month I loved him more than the last.
just caught up on your blog. keep your head up love:) i like the last two posts, well i like the style you wrote them in. keep writing. can't WAITTTT to see you!
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