Scatter.

The words flow from my pen, but I don’t recognize them as my own.
They fill a piece of paper that is a stranger in so many ways and a best friend in so many other's.
What contradictions?
What contradictions.
Everything is ambiguous.
Everything is the same.

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Memories mingle with the present and all of a sudden you’re lost in a hurricane of your torrid thoughts.
A dull hollowness creeps into where your soul used to be – and your heart beats in your chest, as if in slow motion, forcing the crimson blood out.
You long to let the tears flow, but the traitors ditch you yet again.
So you sit and feel your emptiness, letting your drowsy brain delude you.
Delude you into believing there's more to this than what's on the surface.
Optimism battles reality leaving you whirling -
empty, tearless and broken.
And in this moment, you’re all and nothing of what there is to be.

Who knew the glass heart was yours, after all?