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I am prone to heartbreak.
I know this every time I try to console my fluttering heart; every single morning,
the same thought, the same fear.
I wish it was a mere fleeting thought, but-
I am prone to heartbreak.
Every time I slip out of bed after midnight, wide-eyed. I see nightmares,
but is that what I should call them;
are they truly nightmares or the vile reality?
I am stuck feeling my heart throb and clench, dreading the moment it would shatter like a china tea cup.
I can already imagine my bleeding fingers picking up the broken pieces, wincing every time I cut myself; drawing blood, and along with it: hope. Until I bleed myself dry.
I can already imagine myself sitting leg-crossed on the floor, amidst the broken pieces of my heart, drenched in blood; glassy-eyed, and truly, utterly- empty.
I just know I am prone to heartbreak.
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The Beauty Of Imperfection | a poetry collection
PoetryA poetry collection about the emotions and thoughts I have as I go through the journey of growth and accepting the imperfections, in me and in my poetry. It is all about searching for meaning in what seems mundane at first glance, and seeing the b...
