THE DEATH OF A LONELY HEART.
THE DEATH OF A LONELY HEART. 2 am stories
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helios
helios Struggling-
Autoplay OFF   •   3 years ago
A little part of a lonely heart's life. Inspiration from 2 am thoughts.

THE DEATH OF A LONELY HEART.

On a lonely street, treks a lonely heart, singing a lonely song.

Sometimes, when the sun bestows it's curse on their land, the streets are crowded, oh how the streets buzz with movement!

Yet there will always be a path that no one crosses, a neglected path, one that everyone abandons because they are busy swarming a single road.

That is where her heart lies, half of it is exposed to the open air while the other is dug in the ground. It watches during daytime and engages at night. This heart has been intoxicated.

This heart has been stepped on repeatedly. It's ironic how it's on the street right now.

Aren't you wondering about the body? Now that you've known there's is a heart, there must be a body, right? The truth is, they are not in the same place.

The body is now confined underground, rotting. It is of no importance, at least that's what the owner of both parts thought. She didn't care for any of that, her body can suffer.

Anyone would be the same when they've offered their heart in a bouquet of roses, when they've put their heart on a throne. Now this part is a tad surprising but it's true..

This heart has seen things. Seen what no other heart could ever see. It is dark now and the heart begins to see again. Hello, those who have corrupted me. Welcome back.

These are the people who touched me, who abused me when I was but a little heart. I strained, I struggled but I always come back to chant my lonely song as I roam the streets.

A phantom of a heart. Isn't that too far-fetched? Well, it isn't. Not for me, at least. One of these people, she foolishly comes to visit the body.

Don't you know already? That the body has no use now? Don't you know that the body is hollow now? It's me you're looking for.

One day, I will give up my midnight strolls and that day is getting closer, I can feel it.

This heart was once beating so fast, it was close to bursting! It can't do much anymore, it's too heavy.

This heart is pure yet damaged and the reason behind it's survival was because of what it went through. The day has come, and the heart's path is far too strenuous and it's voice is tired.

I am exhausted. "I have been screaming at them all, they should pay for what they've done to her." Then I remember that I am only but a lonely heart.

I will never stop this voyage dedicated to my owner, I will never stop singing my tunes, I will never stop howling as loud as a gunshot.

However, at the moment, I am going to rest, for as long as it may be. I will sink deeper into the ground until the sunlight no longer burns me.

These faces haunt me, the faces I have done so much for, the faces I have pumped for, the faces I slowly stopped beating for.

The next time you visit someone in a graveyard, think of where their heart might be.

It might be watching you, it might be thinking about you and it might be living a lonely life, observing the people that have eroded it while it basks in it's own lonely music.

In a few seconds, in a different setting, this story will restart. Thank you all, that was the death of a lonely heart.

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