Iridescent

I realized heartbreak wasn’t poetic when my sister was driving her car 90mph, her hands clenching the steering wheel and her mumbling “I can’t believe I was so stupid.” because no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t turn her broken heart into anything more than a mosaic. because when this boy had to talk in front of the class, his eyes watered when he mentioned her name and he shrugged his shoulders and said “sometimes things just don’t work out.” and he still loved her. because when it happened to me I pictured me going 90mph on the highway, and mumbling about how I still loved him but instead I threw something at the wall and I wrote about it. I wrote about how much it hurt and tried to make my ribs cracking with all the weight of my heavy heart sound poetic but it’s not. nothing is beautiful or poetic about the way your heart feels when someone you loved leaves, or doesn’t stay, or says “I’m sorry, it just has to be this way.” and there’s nothing poetic about driving so fast you’re convinced you’re gonna crash into the bridge, but you don’t. and it’s accidentally taking a breath under water even though you know it’ll get in your lungs but you just couldn’t come up for air and it’s not beautiful, it just makes your lungs fucking burn. heartbreak is going to open your mouth and nothing comes out but a few broken pieces of your heart and you swallow it back down in hopes of no one noticing your heart coming up from the ocean waves forming inside your stomach and with just one more look from him, you know you’ll turn into a hurricane and it’s dangerous. it’s not beautiful. it turns people into natural disasters that destruct anything in their paths. it makes hearts so broken you can barely see the flame that sparked it up in the first place, because the ocean inside of them washed it away, and you can’t love him anymore when he’s a flame and you’re the ocean.

I think one of the greatest feelings in the world is when someone openly tells you how much you mean to them. Stuff like that is so rare.

Two years later A girl sits in front of her ex lover. He doesn’t say a word And her heart doesn’t ache for him anymore. Her hair is longer than it’s ever been. She is even more beautiful than the day he left her. And at that moment, He panics. He lost her. And he can never have her back. He can just watch her be beautiful And in love With someone else.

Everybody left me in one way or another, and all I want is to leave me, too.

I realized heartbreak wasn’t poetic when my sister was driving her car 90mph, her hands clenching the steering wheel and her mumbling “I can’t believe I was so stupid.” because no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t turn her broken heart into anything more than a mosaic. because when this boy had to talk in front of the class, his eyes watered when he mentioned her name and he shrugged his shoulders and said “sometimes things just don’t work out.” and he still loved her. because when it happened to me I pictured me going 90mph on the highway, and mumbling about how I still loved him but instead I threw something at the wall and I wrote about it. I wrote about how much it hurt and tried to make my ribs cracking with all the weight of my heavy heart sound poetic but it’s not. nothing is beautiful or poetic about the way your heart feels when someone you loved leaves, or doesn’t stay, or says “I’m sorry, it just has to be this way.” and there’s nothing poetic about driving so fast you’re convinced you’re gonna crash into the bridge, but you don’t. and it’s accidentally taking a breath under water even though you know it’ll get in your lungs but you just couldn’t come up for air and it’s not beautiful, it just makes your lungs fucking burn. heartbreak is going to open your mouth and nothing comes out but a few broken pieces of your heart and you swallow it back down in hopes of no one noticing your heart coming up from the ocean waves forming inside your stomach and with just one more look from him, you know you’ll turn into a hurricane and it’s dangerous. it’s not beautiful. it turns people into natural disasters that destruct anything in their paths. it makes hearts so broken you can barely see the flame that sparked it up in the first place, because the ocean inside of them washed it away, and you can’t love him anymore when he’s a flame and you’re the ocean.

I wasn’t one of those girls that would slice your tires or spray paint your house when you broke my heart. I was one of those girls who would slice my own skin and throw my own stuff until my heart no longer felt like it was sinking. I was one of those girls who would take the whole bottle of Nyquil just to go to sleep because I no longer wanted to be awake. I was one of those girls who would fall on the floor and stay there for hours. I was one of those girls who always blamed herself and it wasn’t beautiful. No one should think they were left because they were unlovable or not good enough. No one should destroy themselves because they had their heart destroyed. It shouldn’t work that way.