Killing Thoughts

Torn By My Own Heart

Hey guys, so I was looking through my drafts for this book and found this one. I wrote it a little bit ago, but I thought I would still publish it.

 I look outside, It's snowing.

The fluffy, white flakes fall to the ground.

I see you standing there and suddenly,

An urge rises in my stomach, but I don't make a sound. 

I want to stand close to you,

To feel your body next to mine. 

I wish for only one thing,

That yours and my hand will intertwine.

But then I see your gaze switch to somewhere else.

I see you look at her.

And then I realize something,

It makes my thoughts impure.

You wish the same about her,

That I do about you.

And it makes my blood boil.

I stomp the ground with my shoe. 

It breaks my heart when I realize,

That you never wanted me.

Not the way I want you.

You and I will never be we.

My family can tell I'm broken.

And they know the reason why.

Even though I say nothing,

They can see right through my fake smile.

My mom says that even though you broke me,

I'll always still care about you.

She said I'll always feel connected,

To the boy who, for me, made love true.

And I always disagree with her.

Even though I know she's right.

But I won't admit it, even to myself.

That for you, I would still fight.

I hate that I would still fight,

For someone who already stopped fighting for me. 

For the boy who broke my heart, not once,

But somewhere around 3 x 3.

And every time it shatters,

That vulnerable heart of mine,

The pieces drop to the ground, spreading all over the floor.

The sight of it sends shivers down my spine.

I drop down to the floor,

I attempt to gather all the pieces.

But the jagged edges cut my skin.

And with the bleeding wounds left, my pain increases. 

I've gotten a lot of wounds from this experience.

Every inch of my skin is covered in scars.

And I'll tell you all about them.

About how I met the stars.

Many of my scars are from my heart-breaking.

When I had to glue the jagged pieces back together.

In the process, it cut my skin.

Now, my hands and feet feel as though, they've been whipped by leather.

Every time a left over piece ends up stuck in my foot,

I try to limp through the pain.

To continue through this harsh world.

But I always end up drowning on a street, in the rain.

I never know how I get there.

Only that It wasn't my destination. 

I truly don't understand why out of everything he could have created,

He came up with me upon creation.