International Writers Magazine: Lifestories
How can you break a broken heart?
people around me were but a swirling mass of colour. I could feel
nothing except an intense, numb pain. Like a sickening ache that
weakens you; so I was plagued for days, weeks. Nearly months.The
air bit me and the voices snapped. I was always cold. The dark
times let me hide. The light illuminated my tears. Sometimes Id
venture back there, only to lose myself again.
Scratching thoughts. They made me mad. I would have torn them out. I
tried. But I was dead and drained and weak. And I was always cold. Some
days Id catch the warmth but the fire would always burn out.
I was alone, somewhere near but yet too far. Isolated and scared. No
dreams but the nightmares you marched through my mind. No hopes. The
dark was all I knew and sometimes, in my despair, was where I wanted
Let it consume me.
Leave me here where no one can touch me. Let my heart slowly turn to
stone. I wont forget you. I cant. You are so cold in return.
Shattered and broken; let the blood flow. Torn into pieces my heart
breaks each time. How can you break a broken heart? I question myself
again and again. I wanted answers but they didnt come. I fought
hard against it, but I was overcome with a wave of power that made me
I tried to speak, but the words were wrong. I wanted you to know but
you werent there. You were moving fast, and far away. I was stuck
and shaking, this wasnt how it was meant to be.
Outside I shrank and couldnt breathe. Inside I sat and cried and
cried. I felt lost, couldnt find my way back to who Id been
before. It was as if Id died. There were those who cared and those
who lied, people preached and others tried. There was you whod
left. But there was one who stayed by my side throughout, she never
gave up. She was my only help.
And still, the stars would look down and frown. I could only sigh. I
wanted to be saved, but I wouldnt fight. Then
..one day I
was warmer and I stepped into the light.
Far from over but it was a path, a strand, a start. It was the beginning,
the beginning of an end to a broken heart.
© Natalie Tehrani is studying Creative Writing at the University
all rights reserved - all comments are the writers' own responsibiltiy
- no liability accepted by hackwriters.com or affiliates.