Everyone loves to make heartbreak sound poetic.
As if it’s a sleek, long, even agony, with sharp edges and perfect lines.
They lie.
Heartbreak is chaotic, like a blunt knife dragged unevenly across the skin.
There is blood everywhere,
Pooling in the jagged void left in your chest.
Your love-soaked heart does not just disappear one day,
It all builds up.
You can feel it pulling at the strands holding it to your body.
With each passing day,
More and more strands tear away,
Until there aren’t enough left to tie it in place.
Then it wrenches away and all that is left is tattered remains.
You are left behind in a state of confusion and disarray,
You must help yourself up because there is no one to do it for you.
It appears when you least expect it.
Walking down the street,
You collapse under a tsunami of memories.
Lying in bed late at night,
You drown in the tears
Suddenly shed over the feeling that you are craving something that you can’t have.
It appears out of nowhere,
Crippling and painful.
The dread that you will one day forget how their lips taste.
The realisation that you can never look at them the same way ever again.
As the days go on,
The strands that once held something so cherished slowly grow over the hole that is left behind.
The sun continues to rise every morning,
The birds still sing, louder than the fractured, dismal thoughts in your head.
You heal,
In time, you heal.
You walk around, internally shattering,
But eventually you don’t have to hide it any longer.
You don’t have to force your smile,
Because it comes naturally.
But you never forget that feeling, the messy, brokenness of it all.
The fear of it happening again is always looming.
And it will, happen again.
And you will be left in a torn, bleeding mess.
And you will hurt, so badly that you sob until there are no tears,
And your body is just heaving,
And your lips are trembling,
And you sit there, shuddering.
But then,
The sun rises.
The birds serenade.
The days go on.
And so,
Do you.