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I'm sorry I woke you You used to say I could. You crossed your fingers, nodded your head, like I knew you always would. You whisper sweet words of decit, as you look into my eyes
First stitch, second stitch, I close my wounds. I conceal the layers of hurt. Only my walls know my pain, for I do not wish to expose the cause. My body is a quilt of a broken heart, a quilt of loss.
Sutures heal the wounded but doom the healthy Sutures are more than stitches and seams for injuries seems they can be for hearts too Sew your heart to mine
On my ribs they stay, Permanently marked, A reminder to my heart. Sixteen stitches, black and beautiful, Surrounded by words above and below. Words that gave me strength,
You know the feeling you get when your heart breaks? But then after a while, when you meet someone new, you can feel your heart being "stitched together" again? Well, when you get stitches, you're only
there's something so very strangeabout having to rearrangethe thoughts inside my headin order to go to bedbecause i just want to sleepbut my brain wants one more peepand, Lord, here's my soul to keep
You break my heartJust a little each day