And You Begin To Heal

Heartbreak is literal. You have no way of coping with the scars of this trauma. Blood pumps slowly through your veins, never really reaching all your extremities. Your limbs feel distant, detached, as though they've been sliced from the rest of you. Your vision doubles mirages of your past. Your empty stomach wants to vomit. Your chest becomes a war zone, you can feel each beat,

slower than the one before,

fighting to be the last.

The moment you met them your heart might have stopped.

Skipped a beat maybe.

Fluttered a little. But in the aftermath, the butterflies within you have seared off wings.

In the desolation, the destruction, the erosion of your body, you enter into a state of awakened sleep paralysis. Struggling to wake up from the truth in your nightmares, screaming for assistance with no vocal cords. 

You have had a heart attack. Your heart has slowed to an impossible rate. You, like a possum playing dead, are stiff and unaffected. It’s an incurable disease spreading to every crevasse within your body. Your heart is broken, it stops beating.

But your body refuses to give up,

your mind refuses to die,

your blood creates bridges between pieces of your combusted heart.

And you begin to heal.