broken hearts

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A PILE OF BLEEDING DUST
in a dark place i call home one can see a glowing pile of what one cant figure out just yet. its beats stedily yet faintly  bum bumm bum bumm with each beat it glows.... move closer wait dont stop ugh to late u have stepped in a bleeding pile of dust of what used to be called my heart ... too many broken pieces to put back together ....... too bloody to clean off......to loud from the screaming pain it cries.......  bum bumm bum bumm  a bleedong pile of dust ....... what once used to be called a jewl what once was dear now all over the floor .... what once had a lock and key now gone.
... once light and warm....now heavy and freezing cold ...... a pile of bleeding dust makes one give up on what us humans want most in the world ....love..... but mine still begs for it it cries for it...... and yet even after so many cracks and breaks its still loning for it ......a pile of bleeding dust can be placed in a mold and shaped back into a new heart.

MORE TO COME

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