Remember the time you locked yourself inside the ribcage and hid underneath blankets of self-doubt and sadness? I haven’t forgotten how you shriveled into the corner. I still get glimpses of how we both rocked back and forth to music that would mute out the inner screams and the outside world. My fingers were laced with self-hatred and I am sorry that I clawed into you so deep that it started to resonate in every beat of yours. All that time when I wouldn’t breathe or inhale in hope that maybe, this would take me down, you banged on the walls inside my chest until my lungs had no choice. How I tried breaking you but you pleaded to not give up. There was a time when I wanted to bleed you out through my wrists and my thighs but you never left. I remember that time all too well.
I gave you hell, dear heart.
You eventually gave up. I saw the tiny grenades that I had planted on you go out but this time you didn’t make a sound. I smiled knowing how a war had been won. I took blades and butchered you but there was not even a shriek. Until, one day I sat outside your door hoping to start the pain charade when you did not show up. I kept on knocking but you did not answer.
“I hope you do not hate yourself because your soul was one of the most beautiful ones I ever had”, was the only note you left behind.
Dear heart, come back home. I never realized that there are far worse things in life and not having a heart is one of them.