shards of my heart.

They tell you to follow your heart.

They say it’ll lead you in the right direction.

They say it’ll guide you.

But what if my heart has been shattered

once,

twice,

three times,

and now it lies in pieces,

dozens and dozens,

of shattered little pieces.

Which part do I follow?

The shard that tells me

to go back to him?

The piece that shouts at me

to run away from my troubles?

The sliver that demands me

to rise up again?

The part that whispers at me

to just give up?

Or the shred that encourages me

to follow my dreams?

I find trouble

in deciding which of these

is my right direction,

my guide.

Because I have no heart to follow,

do I even have a right direction,

do I even have a guide?

Or am I destined

to wander through life,

clueless about what my fate should be

because my heart is too broken to tell me.

  • m.f.

 

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