A barely breathing story,
Hear the irregularities of my heart rhythm,
Withering inside,
Decaying outside,
Numb,
Edges of my skin clammy,
I feel the heartache piercing right through my clavicle,
Empty

Some people feel their pain with grace.
Some people swallow their emotion and let
It claw out of their chest with an exquisite
Spray of blood and a melodious sob.
Some people wake every morning,
Sure that they are alive because their heart
Is adorned with the scars to prove it.
Some people are a pretty kind of sad.

Other people are brutish transformers.
Other people quietly inject their toxic pain
Into their bloodstream and wait for it to run its course.
Other people work every day to sweat it out,
But never quite feel clean enough.
With clogged arteries, other people explode.
Their pain takes their power and other people
Break things, break people, break love.

In hiding you will find only danger;
There is never anything beautiful about anger.