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#heart break

Ever hear something so painful that, if you’re quiet enough, you can hear your heart break as your chest caves in on itself?

You can feel the stabs of pain

And you can hear it in your head, bouncing around

Echoing

Hurting you over and over again

Until you forget how everything felt before the heartbreak?

And everytime you think back, your heart breaks again and again, a new, raw, wound

Yeah.

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Walls. Walls are built to separate us from each other. To keep away our enemies. The elements. The ants. The bees. Anything from annoying to our demise. Sometimes, though, walls are built to keep people together. To ensconce them around a warm hearth. Like the walls that now separate you and I. I do not know how we got here. Even now, as I lean my head against the ambivalent brick and mortar, four inches of space seem greater than the vastness of the ocean floor. I sit here and wonder: do you also stair at the ceiling, and count the cracks? Do you wait in darkness against our fortress walls, waiting for an answer to come from behind glazed eyes? To well up from the depths of our tired souls?


It is ironic. I sit here wondering how we have run so far, yet I am unable to do anything. Remorse is supposed to be a redemptive thing. It is supposed to prod me to hurry and love you. But in this case, I have no answer, and feel that none will come. My remorse is dead. It is a poisonous, derelict battlefield of roses and memories that I have to cross each time I see you. It is too much to traverse. The yellow sarin gas chokes my words away from me when I wish to apologize. Instead, I add to the wall, where I should be scraping away. Each ignored preference, every misunderstanding left to mildew, and all of your nuances that fade into the curtains behind you. They are all plaster against the bricks. I do not wish to do this. But I cannot stop. And I am left to wonder, is your head resting against mine, on the other side of this four inch wall?

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I haven’t felt this feeling for a while. I don’t understand why it’s coming now.

My depression seems to be sneaking in and so is the urge to binge eat.

My ex ruined my Valentine’s Day. Typical. He used that day to blow my phone up with apologies and fake promises of changing his ways. I told him I know it’s just talk and that made his messages blow up even more. Gaslight, guilt trip etc.

My fault. I shouldn’t have even entertained it, but I’m into this defence tactic of if anyone wants to waste my time I’ll just waste theirs in return. Blow my phone up all you want, I’ll just respond to the shit if I have a spare moment and there’s no paint to watch dry.

And I don’t block people anymore either. They can stalk all they want. I want them to see how I’m living my life carefree and happy as if they’re not even there.

So how did he ruin my day? He ruined it because deep down inside I kinda wish he was sincere. But my common sense and intuition tells me he’s full of shit. I don’t have much hope for men today and I’m ok with that.

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