The Explanation of Dealing With a Broken Heart
The first betrayal felt like nothing more than a paper cut.
“Put a bandaid on it, you’ll be fine.” My mother told me.
The second betrayal is like having an anxiety attack
You can’t breathe and you feel really sick to your stomach.
“Take some pepto” My friend told me. “I promise you’re okay.”
Having a broken heart is like being smashed into a million pieces!
They say, now you’re being too dramatic
Maybe! But I’m not being unrealistic.
People say they know how to live through it.
People say that the way they’re doing it will help
And prepare you for the next one
But I don’t even understand how to prepare myself
To prepare myself for the next one.
He! Was the only one who made me happy!
He! Was the only one I trusted!
He! Is the only one that could fill the empty void in my chest
And when He! Isn’t there
It feels like these strong hands are squeezing my arteries
Until they pop…
That’s when I realize I’m having a panic attack
So I hold my breath until the air in my lungs is about to escape.
I still can’t get him out of my head
So I go into the bathroom and cut my wrists
They say now you’re just looking for attention
No I’m not! I am doing this because I want to feel better!
I’m doing this because I see your scars and you look fine!
You look like you’re moving on okay!
And I want that!
They say maybe you shouldn’t take advice from us.
They say take this needle and thread and
Stitch up every wound that you have ever received.
But I have so many that I’ll run out of string
They say then we’ll buy you more
Because we’re here for you.
They say that because they know what I am going through
But I don’t think that’s completely accurate
Because, you’re not me!
You don’t know what’s going through my head
You don’t know! What is happening in my life!
Behind closed doors.
You don’t know that every single day that
I see a bad comment about me on social media,
I am slowly transforming into glass
That is not indestructible
You don’t know that I don’t want to kill myself
But if I were to get hit by a car and die
I really wouldn’t care
“You’re a just a toy for my own pleasure”
He told me before kicking me out of his car
On a street corner like I am a prostitute.
I know his message was that I was created
As something no more important than a sex toy
You can buy at spencers.
At first I was sad which I turned into anger
And I poured my anger out on social media
On my family! On my friends! And on myself.
And I am writing this to tell him
That he did this to me.
I want him to feel ashamed
And I am no longer afraid of you!
I am standing up to you finally!
I am not just a toy for your pleasure!
You are not allowed to make me feel sad about who I am
And I will no longer be turned into glass
I am whole and I am stone
And I will not break because you fulfilled
Your pathetic goals
I don’t need your heart felt texts
Because now I know they’re never going to be true
I don’t need you to make me feel better
And I will fucking heal on my own!