It is torn, crooked, and twisted.
It hangs to one side open to more punishment.
It does not beat a normal rhythm,
my broken heart.
The years have taken its toll,
Packed full, punched in and swollen.
The hurt and doubt running, bubbling over its edges,
Like a waterfall.
The need for nurture though still there,
Is not what keeps it beating.
The veins connected to it rush blood through and through,
Sending jolts of life
running in and out, and keeping it alive.
I have no need for it. Don't want it to keep beating.
I await the day I can just keep still ,
Not feel a thing ,
No pain no doubt.
This is just an empty vessel,
Full of only necessities.
No wants, desires, dreams or wishes,
So I pray for mercy,
Help me will you please?
Let this be the end of this,
My broken heart.
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