Poem: Like Confetti

Torn Heart,

Strewn across the grass like confetti after the piƱata
breaks, the forgotten aftermath of momentary luster,
only to be trodden on by the party-goers drunk on
their own invulnerability,
the feeling that infinity can be grasped and that
the world stops turning when you stare at the moon,

your friends skip down the night-shaded streets,
never looking down to see the ground sink into the distance
and feel the weight of their consciousness, of their existing
on such a night where
your heart is tattered by your thoughts,
by your inability to breathe with ease

 

your Torn Heart lays strewn across the grass like confetti
in celebration of your anxiety

 

 

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