I Have a Heart

Do i have a heart? They ask. I have. A big one. But it only pumps blood. It circulates oxygen through my artilleries and sustains every breath i take in. I am dead without a heart. So i have a heart. Do i have a heart? They ask. No. I don’t. I can only feel what i want to feel. I’m different from others. They care even for what they shouldn’t. For me, i care for what i care for. So i don’t have a heart they say. Yet they murdered my heart in its infancy. They told me it hurt in love. They used pillows to suffocate my heart. Now it cant breath. With a dead heart i walk. Deep down i want to live. But am dead. Dead in love. No need to live whiles it hurts. Such is the dark tunnel my heart walks each night. I try to nurse it. I clean it and make it a home for someone. They live in at first with joy then it fades. In pain i watch them leave. So i say me and love don’t get along. With patches on my heart, i face each love story knowing it wont end as i dream but i want to dream into the deepest sides of hearts. Maybe there, i will come to life. With deep and bleeding scars i want to face love again. Will i survive? So i have a heart but they killed it. Survival has been my thing but surviving today and Dying the next day is dreadful. How do i survive knowing they caused it all. Knowing they murdered my heart in cold blood. My tears drop as rain. Rain mixed with blood and emotions. Tears that carries my dreams out. Did i dream? Yes i did. But they woke me up.