The doctor diagnosed me with broken heart syndrome
Told me that I got nine months to live
What I experienced years ago is a paper cut compared to this
I did my time begging and sobbing and pleading and having desperate chats with a god I don’t believe in
Now I live with the ache in my chest
It’s always there even when it’s subtle
It’s in the corner of the room in my happiest moments
And it hides under my bed when I feel at peace
And one day, it’ll kill me
And then I’ll be new
Free.
In years to come when I’m in my new life and something reminds me of the past, I’ll get to say that it feels unreal, like it was all just a dream.
Oasis Poetry 