About Moving On

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: True Confessions  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: July 28, 2018

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Submitted: July 28, 2018

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About Moving On

Don’t tell me time is the only medicine my heart is needing,

Because I’ve spent two fucking years stitching a wound that’s still bleeding.

It comes in waves, my ailing, like violent tides, crashing on the shore,

And I’m almost positive each moon makes it hurt worse than before.

 

Their fingers point at me like it’s my fault that I’m still not healing,

and that a heartbreak is something I should be ashamed of feeling.

So I have to hide it, my friends don’t like it, when I mention you.

I can’t even blame them though, they saw all the things you put me through. 

 

They say there’s no right way, but I’m definitely doing it wrong,

Because this pain won’t go away and I’m tired of being strong.

Still, I’ll ignore it when I can, and choke it back when that plan fails.

I’ll lie there, on a wooden plank, and watch them hammer in the nails.

 

My cries for help go unnoticed, even though they echo off walls.

I’m desperate, but my last resort isn’t answering my calls.

Yeah, last night it didn’t hurt as much, but that doesn’t mean it’s gone.

So if heartbreak is the cost of love, what’s the price for moving on? 


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