I've grown accustomed to the pain
it's always there
forever a part of me.
It's like a river
endlessly flowing through nothing
between the heart and the moon,
and suddenly blocked
by a dam of unbreakable tears
built on broken promises
and tender lies.
Who am I to know what I want?
What I need?
Or what it even is
that I feel inside of me?
I couldn't tell you
the last time I was touched
by someone who loved me
and wasn't pretending.
I can't remember what it feels like
to be held by a beating heart
that sang just for me
and me alone.
I feel deserted,
abandoned in the middle of no where
with not one bread crumb to follow
back to where I left my heart
shattered
and in a million jagged pieces
of an impossible puzzle.
And then I wonder
even if someone came along
to put me back together,
would they even be able to find
all of my pieces?
