I pick up the stones I keep dropping I miss the feeling of her fingertips. They ran over my soul so slow, I miss her sound. Her heart, the way it matched my words I don’t feel the edges of my soul anymore. The broken heart you left me with I’ve mended. I don’t love you anymore, but I wonder what it’d be like if I still did. I wonder what it’d be like if you left me sane I wonder. Would I love the way I did, could I face another and breathe the way I used to. Would it hurt me to understand, to feel, to think about another heart beat. Sometimes I wonder how this cracked shattered and emotionless body could still function. Do I care, I don’t know. I don’t know how someone could be in so much pain without anything there to hurt them. You are a silent pain, you are a disability. You don’t linger anymore, you don’t make me sad anymore. And I think that’s why it hurts.