In a corner, you could make out the shadow of a form. A blackness with no heart remaining. Blood remains stirring from where an arrow missed its mark.
This is what painful and broken love does to a soul. It breaks it down, leaving it lifeless, thoughts of worthlessness enter, drooling in a pool around the feet.
How is it that an organ that divides a body from life or death become so involved with a feeling? Is it not true, that pure joy or devastation, or painful words, or broken arguments can cause a deeper feeling than any other thing a person can experience?
Words of comfort, a pat on the back, a sincere hug, seems to make no difference at that moment. All a person wants to do is hide and perhaps die. A sense of loneliness overtakes and if not nurtured correctly can cause a fatal death.
When this happens to one you know; don’t drift away from fear of not knowing what to say. Go to them, make the words escape your lips. Give the comfort. Be the first one to make the move. Don’t wait, you never know if you may save a life.
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