An ache in my chest as if my heart is nailing boards into it, trying, using everything it possibly can find to help keep it intact, preparing, getting ready for the final break. The break that will not so easily if not ever, be fixed. like dropping a crystal on a granite
floor--that shatter, is what I might accidentally have made happen. I am the reason I will be dead. I am the reason my heart will be no more.
Oct 4, 2017
Oct 4, 2017 at 10:53 PM UTC
An ache in my chest as if my heart is nailing boards into it, trying, using everything it possibly can find to help keep it intact, preparing, getting ready for the final break. The break that will not so easily if not ever, be fixed. like dropping a crystal on a granite
floor--that shatter, is what I might accidentally have made happen. I am the reason I will be dead. I am the reason my heart will be no more.
Request permission to use this poem