For Anyone & Everyone.
What do you do with the hurt and the pain? What do you say to the one for whom you once felt a love so strong you feared the force of it?
How do you tell them, how will they know, that you are no longer whole?
Professions of love accompanied by betrayals so deep, and the sense that there's a supernova in your soul; the spectacular death of the sun that was your love. How will you survive?
And in its wake, in the place were your heart should be - a black hole.
Will the repetitions of piteous and seemingly sincere "sorry baby. I never meant to hurt you" be enough for a rebirth? Can your heart heal, even though it has been incinerated by the coldness of indifference and the levity of cruelty? Even the ashes cannot be found; all dissipated, forever gone.
And so, unlike the Phoenix, unable to rise again.
Now, you are cold, dead inside. You want to love, you want to feel.
You try, a concerted effort at mimicking the love you remember; the memories are bright, like fireflies on a dark night.
You scrabble around, trying to hold on to the luminescence. For a while, you succeed, the palms of your soul cupped to hold.
Alas, just like the firefly, the memories shine but for a while and then.. Nothing.
And suddenly, you know. There will be no rebirth of your heart, of your love, because no matter what is said and done, your heart and love are dead and gone.
And for that, you are not sorry.
How do you tell them, how will they know, that you are no longer whole?
Professions of love accompanied by betrayals so deep, and the sense that there's a supernova in your soul; the spectacular death of the sun that was your love. How will you survive?
And in its wake, in the place were your heart should be - a black hole.
Will the repetitions of piteous and seemingly sincere "sorry baby. I never meant to hurt you" be enough for a rebirth? Can your heart heal, even though it has been incinerated by the coldness of indifference and the levity of cruelty? Even the ashes cannot be found; all dissipated, forever gone.
And so, unlike the Phoenix, unable to rise again.
Now, you are cold, dead inside. You want to love, you want to feel.
You try, a concerted effort at mimicking the love you remember; the memories are bright, like fireflies on a dark night.
You scrabble around, trying to hold on to the luminescence. For a while, you succeed, the palms of your soul cupped to hold.
Alas, just like the firefly, the memories shine but for a while and then.. Nothing.
And suddenly, you know. There will be no rebirth of your heart, of your love, because no matter what is said and done, your heart and love are dead and gone.
And for that, you are not sorry.
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