Loving you was the hardest thing to do.
I watched as you slowly killed yourself,
and then was forced to help.
When I said 'no, stop'
you shut me out,
or
you turned your claws towards me.
When I thought you've changed,
and that maybe you'll be fine,
you reveal your hands with your heart,
all bloody and abused.
Tears staining your cheeks,
as you grasp on to me,
you say in a small voice:
'Help me.'
'I don't know how to put it back.'
Then, just as you expected
I remove the old stitches,
placed your heart in your chest,
and gently sewed you up.
YOU ARE READING
Tranquilizer
Short StoryA collective three part series of my inner most sensitive thoughts, experiences and revelations. Through tragedy and trauma, loss and hope; I've gathered all of my memories and emotions during that time and placed them here. For the curious minds...
