I am not going to write some deep poem about how I felt. I am not going to twist words in to beautiful sentences or heartbreaking rhymes about my pain. How I feel is not beautiful and flowers will not bloom from this rain. The cloud in my brain is not pouring perfectly sad rain. It is spewing acidic rain that burns everything it touches. Including me. My hurt is not “deep” and “intense.” It is constant and dull. It is like my heartbeat. Up and down, up and down, and constantly there. Do not get me wrong, it is still not beautiful. There is nothing beautiful about a heartbeat when it keeps me alive. When it is the only thing separating me from the one I love. So tell me, what is so beautiful about pain? And what is so damn beautiful about a heartbeat?


4 thoughts on “Heartbeat

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