The Rain On Monday

Written words are the only thing my mind can find ease in.


89. Stone

Cold and heavy within my chest is a gaping hole where my heart used to rest.

I starved it of love and starved it of youth, I told everyone lies and forgot

there was truth.

I pushed up my bones and reached for my heart, then pulled it right out

and went back to the start.

Rusty nails and thorns tore at me through my bone until I couldn't take it

and I turned my heart to stone.

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