Spiraling into dust

"have you ever thought that you could get your heart broken in a non-romantic way? Today two people broke my heart, my voice, and my insides. I feel shattered to my bone. My hands and feet are cold but I don’t think that’s why I’m shaking. my vision blurred, i can’t breath because i’ve been spilling out so much for the past hour that my nose is full. I feel everything. to be shattered means to remember and feel everything. everything that once made me angry, jealous, upset, sad, resentful. anything that burned me. anything that ripped my dove out of my own hands. to be shattered and go blank. to remember every time someone broke little pieces of me. and all of those are the pieces of my shatter thrown back into my face. and they dig into my red puffy under circles. these broken shards of me thrown in my face. they slice my lip and bleed my eyes. everything feels like the color black. deep. swallowing. eternal. i can’t breath and heaving so hard my chest hurts. is this physically normal? i read or heard some where that no one thinks about it for long before they do it. it’s just a matter of frenzy. am i one of those? could i be one of those mad beings that people sometimes talk about in late hours of the night? i always thought i was normal. normal people don’t feel this or that about someone they love, do they? how many times will this happen again? how long has it been since the last time? one year? five years? where is my bandaid? oh, it’s on the floor. woops. it’s okay. i can heal myself. he’s not here. she’s not here. he’s not here. she’s not here. i’m not going crazy, it’s my mantra. reminds me that i have to do this myself. "