Conflicts of a Broken Heart

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My mind reaches out for the handsOf the memories you gifted me,But instead it catches the achesThat you bestowed upon my heart

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My mind reaches out for the hands
Of the memories you gifted me,
But instead it catches the aches
That you bestowed upon my heart.

I try to tell myself,
"No you didn't leave me",
But the scars on my heart tell otherwise.

And so I whisper to myself:
"You did leave me."
All the whilst trying and failing to mend the
Shattered pieces of my heart
together.
It seemed as though I was
piecing it together
with Band-Aids.

And so I cry to myself, violently shivering,
Wishing that my heart would stop bleeding.
"Broken hearted are the
survivors of catastrophes."
I try to make myself believe in
those heavy words.

And I wipe away at my wet salted cheeks.
Just when my heart sobs,
"Then why does it feel like I didn't make it to
the shore?"

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