They just keep going until the pieces are too small to see and the denominators are too big to fathom.
I seem to give my heart away in fractions like that; in halves.
Losing just as much each time, left with less and less.
The first half of my whole heart went to a boy I met at sixteen.
He still has that massive piece of my heart in his hand, and from time to time he likes to pull the strings and watch me dance.
I was left with half of myself to protect, but I just kept giving it away.
Half of that half went to the friends I left behind.
And I was left with a fourth of the whole I started with.
Half of that fourth went with to the friends who left me.
And I was left with such a small piece, I thought nothing would ever hurt again.
Until half of that piece walked away with blue eyes that still make me cry.
And here I am, left with the halves of halves that no one wanted.
That no one bothered to take.
The fraction of me that is left is too small to fill the void in my chest.
The sinews of my heart are worn thin and stretched too far out and I fear the pain, like the halves, is destined to go on into infinity with me.
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