A Heart I Cannot Carry

A Client Perspective

Jul 17

1 min read

Slice through my skin

The way you would butter

And crack open my ribs

Where grief has made its home

Grip my heart and take it

Barehanded

I don’t want it anymore

I want to lie among the daisies at sunset

The last view

Peaceful

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My insides feel like haunted walls with doors I cannot touch. They open and close on their own, each one casting a different memory into any sense it can find. I stay hidden behind the walls, watching