a. m. after

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the walls that were guarding your heart had collapsed and like the ribcage guarding your heart turning inside out, it had pierced right through the very thing it was guarding.

You stand comatose unknowing if you are to pull out the damage and heal your heart or to let the thorns fester and seek comfort in the benumbing pain.

Your awareness is limited to the waves of pain — manifesting as the anxious mind, escaping as silent cries. Your mind pacing between “you’ll never be enough” and “you’re too much” – slow dancing to a swan song.

And I want to tell you that the pain dissipates — but you already know. You were born with the need to love. To respond with love in a world where “hate” was reigning as the reflexive response. Having known the hands of hate that caressed your body and your soul, you’ve moulded yourself with the purpose of being the antidote.
Your left atrium was meant to disclose love harnessed from the entirety of your soul. And you’ve always known bleeding hurts bruised easy. But lo, behold, you turn around and love again like you’ve never been hurt before. And they’ll call you naive for you’ve seen a light they haven’t; of love sans need for reciprocation. They’ll call you naive to guise their inability to love as unconditionally as you do. But, don’t you dare let the world make you guilty or apologetic for loving in the time of hate.


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