I have a broken heart. It doesn’t beat anymore. The pieces vibrate, sometimes. As if they want to beat as they once did when they where a whole heart.

Really though, my love is broken. I’m broken love. Does this mean I’m still love? I think it does.

I also think that when pieces of broken hearts come together, something like a miracle can happen. It’s a heart, beating. But it’s unique. Unlike any other heart. For it is pieces of two hearts, as one heart. That beat together in unison. That smile at the same random times. Laugh out loud when we’re alone.

My heart will forever be broken. I cannot put the pieces back together as they were, perfect once within me. Maybe we can put our heart pieces together.

Wouldn’t that be nice? If nothing else, I dream of it. I dream because it makes me think something better can be true, even if in fiction.

Love is everything. Broken love will find a way.

*hearts and thoughts they fade, fade away*

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