(no subject)
if I never see you again
I will always carry you
inside
outside
on my fingertips
and at brain edges
and in centers
centers
of what I am of
what remains.
I am clutching at the shards of my breaking heart, but each piece breaks into smaller and smaller pieces of glass and sand and my god I will never be the same. I have cried at least every third day for the past three weeks, and I never cry. I am breaking apart, yet I don't love him.
Do I?
I will always carry you
inside
outside
on my fingertips
and at brain edges
and in centers
centers
of what I am of
what remains.
I am clutching at the shards of my breaking heart, but each piece breaks into smaller and smaller pieces of glass and sand and my god I will never be the same. I have cried at least every third day for the past three weeks, and I never cry. I am breaking apart, yet I don't love him.
Do I?