A broken heart
implies that part of it is still there
But nothing remains of mine
shattered pieces smaller than dust surround me here.
They've become too hard to see
from all the times someone
has taken a piece of it
and ripped it in half
and it hurts even more
when they try to shove it back
in the place where a once whole heart sat
like they broke a fragile vase
and tried to cover it up like nothing ever happened
But inside we are crying
because we know our hearts can never be repaired
and yes I mean we
because even though I deny that someone is here for me
someone is. But not a regular person
someone who has suffered similar pain
not the same. because no crack is the same.
But similar. and we understand that
we will never understand each other
but we still try to comfort each other
not by saying we get it.
but by saying we're there if we want to talk
because the best therapy is a friendship
of course I have none of those
because I'm just a fat white kid
in a school of Asians who wouldn't dare
come near me as if I was a venomous snake
I don't bite. You're just throwing me deeper and deeper into the pit
of depression and at the bottom is a monster called suicide.
But suicide is the best option I can see because lets be honest
No one wants to endure pain forever. I'd rather die than live like this.
Maybe I shouldn't say live but rather... survive.
Because I am just surviving. Just managing to get that little sliver of air
through suffocating lungs.
But its all the same.
No one ever sees me.
I'm.... Invisible.
