Tutor My Heart
I breathe off, respiring, pouring off, my built up frustration, laying down my choked up throat.
“Get a grip” I murmured to my senses, my heart failing to realise, it has never been okay for quite some time, but my brains had forced me to believe it.
My knees bow, feeling the weight crashing upon my shoulders. My head gave way, feeling the trauma once more. I crash my face into my palm, with eyes stinging, but I refuse to shed tears. It is far gone, I shouldn't feel like shit. They acted right, I shouldn't be like this. He never was really there, why does my heart rip apart?
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