I wanted to cause damage.
I wanted to feel something, anything other than alone.
I wanted to live hope, to have tangible hope.
I wanted to have hope that I wasn’t dead
so I aimed to maim instead.
I wanted it to stop.
To know you’re just like me.
I wanted the world to stop,
I wanted a chance to crack open the hearts that didn’t want me
and scar them. To see the same hurts on them as on mine.
I wanted to crack open every ribcage until I found you:
the heart that beats with mine.
I wanted to break those that are perfect to feel for
just a moment
perfection between my two hands.
But time didn’t stop, I can’t hear your heart.
Everyone goes on smiling, band-aiding each other’s hearts while I try to wash the blood off my hands.
I feel like bleeding out.
The only damage I can cause is to the heart in my hands.
The one that fell out of my own chest.