That muscle that pumps the blood through my veins

Is broken.

Yet, it still pumps,

keeps me breathing,

among the living,

those who have caused this immense pain.

Each act against my person

Has stabbed the knife deeper

Into that cage

That is to protect that

Most important muscle

From attack. Those not

Of physical nature, however,

slip through the bars of that cage, are the

deepest, last the longest.

But this last was a siege

Upon my soul and has

Removed the instrument of injury

Most viciously.

Though painful, this blade of betrayal

Was keeping my soul intact

And so without, has shattered.

Yet that traitor of a muscle keeps me breathing,

Painfully going through the motions, as I try to

Make sense of the mess that is now my soul.