Sometimes it is a sweet release, while other times it is a prison.
Sometimes you lose yourself in the distractions. Sometimes you see and hear... No, you sense so much. You see, hear, smell, taste, and feel so many different and strange and wonderful and horrible things that you forget or at least get distracted from it.
The irreparable gnarl that is the sewn, taped, and glued together mass of what your heart used to be.
But don't be mistaken, it's still broken. You can't fix it. The seams will always be visible to the eye, the cracks will always grate against the touch, and the dust will coat your tongue and the inside of your nostrils. The sound of your heart is no longer steady and strong, it is weak and faltering. It flickers in and out as it sparks and fires at the slightest hope and then dies down and barely survives the reality of the situation. They are gone. The fact that your heart skipp