Breaking My Own Heart

Stephanie Bennett-Henry shows how breaking one’s own heart seems to make a kind of sense.

Stephanie Bennett-Henry

The things I need don’t exist in reality, so I dream during the day to prepare for the chill of the night. I sleepwalk under the sunlight and make my way to places where moments can be touched and god, I hold them so close to my heart hoping they reach out to hold me too. They never do. They never do. But I keep walking, because I never learned how to not chase dreams. I latch on to beautiful things until they rub against me just enough to make me feel butterflies or goosebumps or like maybe somehow I matter. I let that feeling swirl around as long as it wants to stay, and then I watch it fly away. The beautiful things…they always leave. I keep pieces of them here in memory of that time when I couldn’t stop smiling. But I hold those memories like a loss…

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