On the playground of my broken heart; you are the only resident

Yesterday I died.

It is like a cold invisible hand plunged though my skin and violently tore out my organs. I am now left with this bleeding, gaping hole.

I need something to fill it with.

I am scared that if I do not fill it soon, it will fill itself up with hatred, bitterness or something of the like. Because sometimes, when a heart is broken, and then tries to heal independently, it heals with pieces of glass still wedged in the cracks. Coldness, resentment, and anger are the result.

I don’t feel anything anymore. I am all numbness and meaningless words.

All of my determination and motivation to be better is gone. I just feel dead. Like I never existed.

I will eventually be forgotten.

The hands on the clock spin around so quickly, it creates a black hole which swallows me. Sallow flesh streched tightly over brittle bones, haunted eyes in sunken sockets. My sorrow consumes me.

And I am lost to the darkness.

It is like waking up one day and discovering that you have gone from loved, to not being loved. Such an awful feeling of realization, that strikes me so violently, I am knocked to the floor.

I lay there.

I cannot get up.

There is no one here to talk to. No shoulder to cry on. Because it was my best friend who caused these tears.

Is there any way to make me whole again?

Doubtful.

Yesterday I died,

and today I am re-born. I am cold. I will never love again, and I will never let anyone get so dangerously close as to touch that most wounded and anguished part of me.

~C