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Poems About My Ex. Heart.
Heart.
Heart.
Heart.
Ripped
and torn
and shredded apart.
I do not cry.
I do not plea.
I do not get down on one knee.
To only look up and see…
nothing?
Something?
A thing to make my heart sing?
No.
For I fell nothing.
Not anymore.
I do not care for what is in store.
My heart is gone.
My heart is dead.
Now I lay down my little head.
I do not cry.
I do not weep.
