Prophetic Whispering…


He tried to warn her, begged her to listen. “I don’t want to pick up the pieces”. And inside she already knew that he would. That somethings are inevitable- like dying.

Because a fragile heart can only take so much. It pulses with undeniable need until the edges begin to leak, like tears from a newborn’s eyes. No one even knows why? They only try to soothe it. To dull the pain. 

They offer it drinks,upon drinks- vodka, straight. They cover it with gifts-silk dresses. They offer it compliments- so pretty. They give it medicine- relaxers. Tell it to sleep- more pills. Feed it lies- don’t worry.  Give it chills. 

Yet, she convinced herself it wouldn’t happen. Not this time, evolution-the real deal. Even as the mortar started cracking, she closed her eyes and laughed, whispered…Peace Be Still. 

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