A hurting heart

My heart hurts. Not metaphorically speaking. My heart, hurts. If I can just get through this day. Day two. Then, I can lock myself in my room for two days and not have to deal with the world. I’m looking forward to the darkness. My surroundings, not to be outmatched by my mood. Here, here in the “real world” I’m sick of pretending that all is well. When it is not. My heart is hurting. I’m dying on the inside.

– J. Ela 


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