Ghosts of Heartbreaks Past

He had blue eyes

and spoke in plot lines

and everything about us was soft.

He was looking for a story

like the world was one big movie.

Given the chance,

he could've been more to me.

But he left before we could start,

he broke my heart.

He had green eyes

and he wore bowties

and everything about us was fire.

He saw through my walls

like they were made of glass.

Given the chance,

I think we could last.

But time and space pulled us apart,

he still has my heart.

He had brown eyes

and only told lies

and everything between us was wrong.

He was looking for something stable 

like being with me was going to be his saving grace.

Given the chance, 

I think he could change.

But I'm so tired of the endless fight

he just wants one night.

Tender Heart

For so long there was a thick shell around my heart.

It grew some and I built it some and the layers got thick.

Heartache after heartache, I boarded up shop and let go of my heart.

I didn't need it, didn't want it, didn't care for the feeling it gave me.

I was sick of pain, sick of hurt, sick of being torn apart artery by artery.

For a long time, the heart in my chest was a stone.

It was heavy.

It was empty.

I didn't care about the cost because the pain had stopped.

Now, that shell is cracking and my heart has become exposed.

Every soft word, every kind sentiment, every hurting heart stabs into my chest like a knife.

It hurts all the time.

A wound being reopened and exposing the soft, new flesh to the harsh reality of the world.

It hurts for everyone going through something big or small.

While I'm glad to feel alive again, I don't know how to cope with the pain.

I've lived so long like a ghost, unseeing, unfeeling, unattached.

This tenderness is new to me.

I try not to see it as weakness, I try to remember that pain makes me strong.

I try not to shut down again, to coat the walls of my heart in cement or block out the world.

But living is hard.

Living hurts.

The ache in my chest is both foreign and familiar, from a time in my life I wish I couldn't remember.

Tender, aching, breaking heart, hold on.

Hold on.

Hold on.

Faint

When I was fifteen, I fell and hurt my leg.

I remember the waiting room at the emergency clinic.

I remember the way my hearing started to fade like cotton was being shoved in my ears.

I remember my heart pounding in my chest.

I remember the world fading at the edges into a soft black curtain that wanted to fall over my eyes.

I remember almost passing out from the pain.

When I was nineteen, I had surgery.

I remember being in the shower in pure agony.

I remember the shower feeling too small.

I remember the way my hearing started to fade like the world around me was whispering.

I remember my heart pounding in my chest.

I remember the world fading at the edges into a soft black blanket that wanted to pull me in.

I remember almost passing out from the pain.

Our bodies are programed to do whatever it takes to get oxygen to our brains.

To keep us breathing through the pain.

To keep us alive in a crisis.

And the ache in my chest now feels so overwhelming, so consuming, that I wonder when the world will start to fade again. 

I wonder when the sounds will become muffled and the world will soften into something dark and warm.

I wonder when I will pass out from this bone deep pain that tears me apart day in and day out.