When someone dies.
When someone dies, someone you truly love,
your heart breaks.
It rips, scatters into millions of tiny pieces.
Fragments, memories, of who that person was to you.
The pieces spread about, still contained inside your rib cage,
fluttering,
unsure how to go on.
Then time passes, and the lonely pieces find their way back.
They huddle together.
Stitches keep them in place.
And they've worked so hard to come together,
that they don't realise
parts are missing.
They only remember,
only see,
the good.
They no longer wish to hold memories of
Harsh words.
Hurt feelings.
Broken emotions.
Heartbreak.
Those memories are still there, though.
Hidden beneath the stitches.
The stitches that bind them together.
your heart breaks.
It rips, scatters into millions of tiny pieces.
Fragments, memories, of who that person was to you.
The pieces spread about, still contained inside your rib cage,
fluttering,
unsure how to go on.
Then time passes, and the lonely pieces find their way back.
They huddle together.
Stitches keep them in place.
And they've worked so hard to come together,
that they don't realise
parts are missing.
They only remember,
only see,
the good.
They no longer wish to hold memories of
Harsh words.
Hurt feelings.
Broken emotions.
Heartbreak.
Those memories are still there, though.
Hidden beneath the stitches.
The stitches that bind them together.
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