Heartache

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The stench of iron covers my shaking hands.

For as much as I wash my hands,

I still see and smell the blood on them in my nightmares.

I watch myself patching up my heart with cotton and needles,

Holding back leaking feelings and emotions.

For as my heart gets bigger,

It loves and opens more.

But the weight of a big heart is too heavy for me to carry.

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