I can promise you that people will not praise you for talking about how easy it is for you to out stretch your hand into someone's chest and rip out their heart. No one will come to your rescue when your heart has been stolen and you sit with an excess amount of others' hearts surrounding you. Your tongue will not help when you shove it down another girl's throat. I promise you the windows will still continue to fog when you're showering and you'll continue to write her name in the condensation. It all fades though, right. Your life has come to a complete halt and the radio won't stop screaming at you through the lyrics it plays. You've lost her, stop denying that you're wrong. You know good and well that she loved you more than she loved herself and you took advantage of that. No one will come to your rescue as you sit and bask in the cold hearts around you as your heart is with her. No one, *not even her.

The cracks in the sidewalk haunt me and I wonder if the glass on your window is steamed by the breath of you waiting for her to show up.
I can't show anyone the breath that escapes my mouth because I am terrified it calls of your name.
My eyes roam into the deepest depths of the largest shadows because I fear that you will creep up on me at anytime with the sound of someone's name that reminds me of yours or the way a person says a certain word.
I've been driving for five hours and my ears just popped and you'd think I would be able to hear more clearly but still, all I hear is your name.

I understand that hearts are not meant to stay whole for your entire life. The concept of you live and you lose has never been a foreign one to me. I know that sometimes life isn't fair and that you might have to watch a loved one die or the person you're irrevocably in love with walk away. When I was younger, my mother used to speak to me in such an innocent and pure tone, as if everything inside of her was not killing her. She used to tell me that life was hard and that it was not a place for the ones who fall hopelessly in love with people. It was not a place for the people who would let someone walk all over them. But rather, a place for the ones without a heart (or to at least portray yourself so) and for the ones who could cut people off in the split of a second. But I grew up differently, and with my age, came my inevitable downfall and fatal flaw. I was everything my mother had told me would not survive out in the world, the real world that is. High school came and went - sometimes the girls there were a tad bit too overwhelming and I will admit to thinking my mother was right a lot of those years, that life wasn't meant for "softies" or generosity to strangers. But it passed. I learned that as I looked down to my child and I kept my voice pure and innocent, while everything inside of me may or may not had been killing me, I told her that the world would thrive off of the kindness of her forgiving heart and that her eyes would turn dull for periods of time just to come back even more lively. I learned that sometimes the most cold-hearted thing you could ever do to the world is keep your innocence.