What happens when you have a broken heart?
Does  it fill with blood and burst?
Does it bend to fit in the tiniest box,
locked up in your chest.
Entwined in your rib cage.
Does it pull to the left or to the right?
Does it hurt and ache?
Does it long or yearn?
Does it feel at all?
Is it an old familiar stabbing pain?
Is it dull or like roaring flames?
Is it hard to breathe or even to see?
Is it a panic attack, or just me?
It's a ******* explosion.
It's asking what ifs.
It's reflection.
It's the past.
It's a constant.
It's a constallation in the far out space.
It's the space between you and me.
It's a ******* monstrosity.
It's a game.
It's a mind ****.
It's a lie.
It's life.
It's love.