Wreckage

I’ve seen people die of a broken heart
And I swore it would never be me
That mess is too much stress
When you patch it all together
It’s a lot of baggage.
But lying here in a dark room
I can’t sense the bad smell
My feet weigh more than a rock
My veins pump blood in vain
So I can go through another sad day
It’s been years and i’m still picking pieces
A grenade lodged in my chest
I still dream of walking in the rain
Driving on long roads
Leaving a trail of work
Until I find someone to share in this wreckage.

Vera