I wonder if with time your heart can deteriorate?
If every time you cry yourself to sleep, a part of it breaks.
If when we lay at night staring at the ceiling wondering how it is we got in this horrible place,
If a piece of it simply falls off and evaporates?
If it falls into the crevices of our bones so soon we are no longer left with a heart
But with the left overs of what used to be one.
So we can no longer feel love but we have the particles of what it once consisted of,
Deep within us, never able to be felt or shown again.