My Fragile Heart

Have you ever had your heart broken? Destroyed? Crushed?

I think crushed is such an appropriate word. Smashed into little pieces that have no hope in getting back together. No way to find their rightful places again. We weren't given a manual. Blueprints to help gloop the incorrigible mass of what was once whole. 

The hurt of disappointment and rejection is just too much to bear. I feel the burn of my heart stopping. The suffocation of being buried alive in my own woes. The drowning of my lungs filling with my own tears.

I feel like my heart was tossed absentmindedly into a blender. Not bothering to put on the lid to contain the mess but still pressing purée. I feel like a match was lit, held to my chest to burn. The light of the fire illuminating the dark shadows of the sinister figure holding the match.

I've been kicked while I was down. My face pressed into the dirt splashed by the spittle of those who scorn me. And it's my fault if I can't get up and cover up the bruises and paint a clownish face on command!

I grow weary of climbing the same mountain I'm pushed down day after day. My throat is numb from screaming and yelling for a help that won't come-that doesn't bother to listen. My back is weak from carrying the weight of depression and hopelessness that never seems to go away.

Every time I find a silver lining, I get it snatched up from me. Every light snuffed out. Every breath ripped away.

Maybe it's time to welcome the darkness. Maybe it's time to just stop getting back up and awaiting the inevitable. Just lie on the cold, hard ground. Keeping my heart to myself out of harms way.

Sometimes I like to watch fire dance in the darkness. That's just what it does: dance. It's almost inviting. Daring me to get close enough to feel it's kiss. Seducing me to feel a pain much greater than mine, one that would take it all away.

Have you ever sat at the bottom of a pool? It's peaceful. Holding your breath until your lungs burn. Have you ever wondered what would happen if you just stop holding that breath? Just float gracefully in the blue paradise. Make the gentle waters your resting bed.

It's time to give up. To accept my fate. Time to say my farewells. Not goodbye, for not all byes are good. But my fare is well.