You tore my heart apart, and the many pieces lay shattered on the floor. Another glass heart, dropped from the hands of the beholder. Waiting, hoping, wishing to be put back together, but truthfully it will never be the same as it once was. Young, ignorant, immature, holding onto everything that should be let go of. Things that are split in two are easier to put back together than millions of pieces. This way some will be lost forever. Things are born, die and are born again. Nothing lasts forever, even though you might want it to.

 

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