You're cold as winter
Just as bitter
I hate your emptiness
Vast regrets
Gaping wounds
Sliced up my heart
Broken...
Just broken
Written the day I realized no matter how much love I have to give, it will never be received.
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Away is where you are
Not just a drive in a car
Your heart is what I seek
Searching, yearning
Ah ha, there's a peek
I've felt it before
It's kept highly guarded
Strong is what you think
Weak is what you reap
Describing how much he protected his heart/emotions. To the point of pure misery and bitterness. To him love was hatred and pain. Not hope, joy, happiness or bliss.
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Reality is a strange word
Mine is mine
Yours is yours
Understanding is lacking
Start packing?
No, not so
Fill it with what?
Broken pieces?
What about trying?
Noose is hanging, slip in heart
Why kill it twice?
"I'm not dead yet," said the willing heart!
When I wrote this, I was so confused about what to do. Do I stay? Do I go? Do I keep trying? And if I do all these things will I feel peace in my life again? The hanging of the heart is the Will Power I had to keep going even though it might kill me.
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