Shatter

Clunk.
Onomatopoeia of sound,
Something shattered.
Something broke.

When a glass shattered,
And no one was there to pick up the pieces,
Each time there were feet roaming around,
Those feet would hurt.

There would be the old wounds,
The new wounds,
And the shards of glasses still embedded in the flesh.

"If I can't feel the sadness anymore,
I don't feel anything left."

My feet would constantly go back to that place,
Where the pieces of my shattered heart were broken,
I'd walk and walk,
And I could feel the sadness overflow from the wounds,
It made me miserable,
Yet alive at the same time.

It was the thing that made me human,
Less sane,
But admittedly human.

I never had dreams about any guys that I've dated.
Only him.
And not once,
Many many times.

The vivid dreams,
We'd talk,
Until we stopped.

I didn't want to get professional help,
Because the memories kept me sane,
When I had no hope of living through my life.

It was stupid,
I am stupid,
But I had to get it out from my system.

That's why getting a house in the middle of nowhere without human contacts,

And loads of dogs is the only thing that matters.