one hundred seventy one

You can die of a broken heart. You stop caring. About anything. The life is sucked from you and you bury yourself one fractured minute at a time.

Some have strong hearts. Not me, I’ve a weak heart, i fear. I break easy, born fragile. But i’ve a hard one, like granite, and it’s small, like a garden rather than a field. Keep it safe, keep it close, keep it secret.

I live on will, not heartbeats.

A man with nothing to lose can take anything.

Tears are for people with blurry vision.

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