It can't be my heart that pumps blood throughout my body. It can't be my heart that beats in my chest. It can't be my heart that's keeping me alive. It can't be my heart because I felt it break in my chest. The shatter quaking in my bones rattling them together. The intensity of it causing my body to ache and my breath to fail. No. It can't be my heart that's keeping me alive right now because you broke it and then ripped it from my chest like it was yours to keep.
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The Art of Mending A Broken Heart
Short StoryI don't think it's about finding myself as much as it is about remaking myself. I had been this girl for awhile, and then I started changing. Heading in a new direction blindfolded. I think it's time to take the blindfold off and create myself with...
