My heart has been beaten.
My heart has been broken.
Just like the bones in my body.
Holding on to feelings that pain my heart, to the point of where I get sick.
My heart takes on so much pain from myself.
Scars and bruises, cuts and scratches litter on my body.
He left me in a world of hurt,he left me when I needed him most.
Yet my heart can not understand that the feelings between us are not shared anymore.
My brain has realized that he used me to make other jealous.
The way he would call me names in the dark of night. On phone calls, how he would call me a pig for eating so much.
And yet I thought that this was love. I thought that this was the way men treated people they loved. My father treated me the same way that he did. I didn't know what true love really was.
My heart still beats true and hard for the man who left me shattering glass vases against walls. Who made me not want to eat for days, because I could not leave my bed.
I started smoking because of him, and everytime I smoke i don't burn the cigarette out on the ground no. I let it sit in my hand until I can't take the pain of the embers burning into my flesh and then I drop it and burn it out.
My heart knows that I shouldn't love because who could love someone as broken as me. Who could love someone who isn't even the sane person some days? I shouldn't have love I don't need love.
I never received love from my family. I never received love from my ex's. I cant possibly think of how it feels to be truly loved for the person that I am.
Which is a broken mess.
