Sharing Sorrow

The easiest thing to do
Is to share one’s sorrow.

Not for me.

I stitch my mouth shut, never wishing to breathe,
Yet I bleed through,
Choking,
Increasing the pain tenfold.
But That’s okay.

When I look for your hand,
A hand that I have no right to look for,
It breaks me
More than you could ever break me.

But if I break myself first
You will never get to break me.
Breaking me
So that You can’t.
Isn’t it Brilliant?

Sharing Sorrow

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