There is no other mystery, than the mystery of oneself, relinquishing all hope to that of guilt.
My heart bursts out of my chest,
and I know it’s at rest
but will it beat one more time for you
will it skip rhythm, rib cage
and bleed more profusely for you?
wow. there’s so much to say more than those three letters. there’s so much emotion wrapped up in that heart. a longing, a gift, an effortless climb. but tears all the same
It’s an intense longing. Hopefully one day it’ll fade.
Your short poem here seem having agony in his or her heart.
You could say agony, Carol. A lot of agony.
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