Every Broken Piece of Me

April 15, 2012
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Dear Picture of Us,

My greatest condolences towards ripping you in half and crying over you as I watched you burn, but you were blatantly deceiving to my heart. Standing perfectly in the picture frame on my vanity, you revealed a boy that I knew so well alongside an innocent girl who completely lived for him. Oh, Picture of Us, what were you thinking, may I ask? To allow my naive heart honestly believe that I knew him at all. Well let me tell you…I started to come to harsh realization because your colors faded just like our beautiful relationship and the crisp corners were manipulated by wear and tear. He was not the boy you reflected in that Kodak picture, but yet a monster who thrashed his claws through my chest and ripped out my petrified heart. He pushed me right off of Cloud Nine and into an ocean of my own tears. He was not the little boy at the playground sitting next to me on the swings with stained khakis and striped shirt that he used to be. And for not being able to speak the truth, you sure tore me apart wherever the real-him hadn’t already. And I can sit here and write a thousand excuses as to why I tossed you into the burning flames, but when it comes down to it, I ripped you in half because that’s what he did to my heart.


Every Broken Piece of Me

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