Virgin Heart

There's a feeling you get once you cry after a long period of time trying to enjoy the little things. It's like all those little things become littler and all the things that you avoided become larger. The feeling of the emptiness that carries throughout your chest, your heart pounding trying to handle the amounts of pressure of sadness that builds within. It's like drowning, though I've never felt what it's like to drown but I imagine it feels like fire. The feeling of the brisk, ice cold water filling the virgin lungs with something other than the warmth of oxygen. The barrier being broken between earth, fire, and water all at once. Being heartbroken is not something someone of the kind hearted should go through but as though everyone seems to experience. It's all any good writer or artists writes about, people are mourning the feeling of happiness after the drowning of the heart. The death of the virgin heart, untouched, and unbroken - it is to never be as it was, never untouched, never the same, mourning to forget the pain of the general suffocation that lies beneath the lungs, within the heart. It will be okay. Everyone drowns at some point, yet everyone still breathes