Heartbreak scars
People have long written about it, more famous men than me have tried...
The majestic swan may die of a heartbreak. Oh, what I'd do to be a regular ugly duckling in my story instead. You see, time heals all wounds, but the scars of love are apparent, scorching not our skin, but our breath. Oxygen may move through my body, inhaling and exhaling as autonomous as it is, but I find myself at the surface of a dry lake, gulping the air as if it isn't really there, as if I am choking, as if I can't breathe at all. I'm not at a lake, or near any body of water. My organs work as they should, my mind – completely sane. So why, why does it feel like there's a fire breathing dragon inside my chest, clawing to get out, consuming my oxygen with scalding flames of fire?
Hit me with a ton of bricks and the pain I'd feel would still be that in the place of my heart. A void lies there now, a black hole, hollow and all consuming. Through this, all emotion – happiness, love, kindness, rage– lost in oblivion of pain. It's the kind of pain that flows in your blood, tearing the lining of your veins.
My heart lays blinded by darkness while my mind, my thoughts and my dreams, keep my awake, keep my lingering, keep me remembering. Painful memories of what once was, what could have been, but what happened instead float around in perfectly blown bubbles that are ready to catch, before the wind carries it off, beyond my sight. The trees remain silent tonight as my bubbles stay behind to haunt me, for there is no wind today. So I'll put on a mask . This mask hides the hideous wounds of fresh blood and torn tissue, because time has not passed long enough for them to become scars.