Panic
In the form of ropes
Tied around my heart and throat.
My brain performs
A fight or flight
And flees with me
Behind and blind with
Pain I think I shouldn't feel.
I should be fine.
That heart was never mine
Though mine was his and
I have no claim over the
Growing pains of moving on
YOU ARE READING
Lessons Learned
PoesíaMore crappy poetry inspired by heartbreak and other such things
