My heart isn’t shattered and it’s not broken in half either
Both of those situations would be easier to handle than the reality I face.
Rather, my heart and my body have been intertwined with stitching of him.
It’s in every corner, in every layer of my body.
And I have to pull it out slowly, because what once felt like a warm blanket, now it feels like barbed wire.
What once was blossomed with love and safety and happiness, now pokes and shreds and hurts
Every inch I remove I have to pause and sew up the torn ligaments from where it once lay…. So I don’t bleed out all at once
It is the most brutal kind of removal
I’ve never experienced anything like it and I’m still not certain I will survive it
But I keep on trying
