I have no heart but it still hurts.

Right there.
Yes that’s it,
Just on the left of the middle of my chest.
It’s that pain again.
Back to haunt me like it always does.
It makes me feel sick.
I don’t like it.

I have no heart, that’s what I’ve I been told.
But it still hurts.
So bad.
Like a needle being pushed slowly into you.
But you can’t get it out.
It stays no matter what you do.
That type of pain.

Sometimes it crawls up my throat and I feel my eyes watering.
It hurts more when I try to make it stop.
A terrible ache that plagues me constantly.

Ugly sounds always manage to push through the crowd that is my voice.
I hate it.
It’s embarrassing.
I don’t want anyone to hear me like this.
Or see me like this.
They’d laugh.
Then it would hurt more.
I don’t like pain.
Sometimes it scares me.

I want these aches and pains to go away.
But they stay.
Diseases.
Parasites.
Burdens.
I hate them.
It makes me weak.
Like my knees will cave in and I’ll drop into the abyss beneath my feet.
Never retuning again.

I have a heart and it hurts.
I want to rip the needle out.
Cure the diseases.
Pluck out the parasites.
Lift the burdens.
I want all these pains to disappear.
If they don’t,
I will.

Do not burden yourself with guilt that does not belong to you.
Laden with burdens not your own, your bones will splinter,
driving into your muscles with unbearable pain following in its wake,  
your spirit will fracture.

The guilt will slowly gnaw out your beating heart like a starving predator,
you will feel a constant throbbing pain in your throat as if something is violently twisting it from the inside.
As if it is wrapped in rusted barbed wire and strings of thorns derived from only the sharpest of ancient berry bushes.

If a problem is not yours,  
let it calmly pass you by.  
If it does not touch your life,  
don’t let it linger in your mind.
As if it were a common house spider frantically scuttling across your bedroom floor,
simply let it pass instead of picking it up and being bitten.

Let yourself feel relief,
not indulging in artificial pain and strain.
Be grateful for the life you have been granted,
that it is peaceful,
keeping serenity all for your sake.
Stop throwing yourself into death’s calloused, frozen hands then turning to blame ‚unfortunate fate‘.

How foolish it is to seek out struggle,  
only to lament the scars you carved yourself.

You can weep to those around you, and seek out sympathy and support,
though in the end you caused your own suffering.
Now deal with that suffering just as you created it.

Do not form excuses just to relieve your mind from your knowing of the fact that you are the root of the pain you experience.
No one needs to forgive you.
Playing the victim role in your imaginary story is ultimately pointless.
Pointless yet not painless.

Will you dig your own grave next?
Humiliate yourself further?
Bury yourself in rough, damp soil,
breathe in and relish the Earth‘s tasteless scent and etch your forgotten name into your headstone because you will die alone?