heartbroken and hurting,
and very much still in love,
you couldn’t stop writing,
poetry, prose, anything.
you discovered that you were too full
of feeling, passion, love, heart
and you had no where to pour it to.
so you spilled all that
upon pages and pages
to make your heart stop trembling,
to make it forget
its yearning to desperately love,
only to discover
that nothing can trick the heart.