Tears on my pillow.
Salty grains of sorrow.
Feelings of sadness come in waves.
Yet, I cannot explain the hollow or ache.
Grief is part of life.
We are all going to die.
Not all grief comes with death.
It often comes
when we break with our hearts dissected
on a plate,
as if they scraped every part of us away.
To love is to lose, and to lose is to grieve.
The tears on my pillow will be gone tomorrow,
but nothing fills the void.
Why are hearts not made from steel
they would be less easy to destroy.
Why must we lose the ones we love the most?
Why must we always say goodbye?
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