my heart vs me

At this point I’m sending letters to god.

Why, why do some things hurt so much more than they should?

My heart, my burden

My never-ending black hole that just takes and takes and takes and

melts me in the ground.

Sometimes I wish I could leave it in front of the church doors.

I know, I pick up all the pieces and let them break my skin.

With my bleeding hands, I hug my heart.

It’s okay, it’s okay

This emptiness will surely pass

One day, one day