i was not created to be broken and
you were not created to destroy.
yet somewhere along the way
you were taught that it was okay to
take a heart and overwhelm it.

your words were carefully calculated
to make me question the reason
my heart kept crumbling despite each
exhausting attempt to piece it back
together again.

am i stitching the pieces back together
wrong?

i was slowly dying at your hands
while you thrived on watching me unravel.

but it was never your fault because
you were never the one pressing the cold
blade against my skin, right?

five years later, though i am no longer dying,
my chest caving in on itself might as well be
called just that.

and you’d think i would have forgotten
the sound of your voice by now
but it echoes in my mind
just the same as before.
just as painful as before.

i am swimming in an ocean of
sadness but it feel more like
drowning these days.

so now I’m here forming lines on
paper with a pen instead of with a
cold blade on my skin.
and even though i know neither can
erase the pain that has found a home
within my heart, i will keep searching
for some sort of peace.
and i promise i will take it in whatever
form it decides to visit me in.

and no, i was not created to be broken.
so i look up towards the never ending night sky
and curse the stars i cannot see for letting
our paths cross, because i am still collapsing.

i see no end.

whoever created me cannot be the same
being who let you break me.