I feel empty. I feel hollow, where my heart once stood, beating, pumping blood, and giving me the precious gift of life. It is not there anymore. Not long ago, someone tore it apart. To little shreds of emotion, and consciousness. I don’t know why they call it heart break, when the heart is torn, and not broken. I seem to know so little about anything anyways. There is always a limit, always a label, always a judgment that is between my deepest passions and me. And no matter how many times I tell myself I don’t care, late at night it all creeps back on me when I am the most alone.

When I was little, I didn't believe in monsters that were hiding under my bed. But nowadays, as I see myself grow, and learn new things, meet new people, I feel the monster under my bed feeding on my experiences. I feel its existence, and I feel it grinning with the sweet taste of revenge, because I didn't believe in it back then, it came back to make me believe in it now. Thinking that I have a heart to feel scared, silly monster, I was never afraid of you, I will never be.

But I fear one monster, one that is inside of me. The most dangerous, the most lethal. It is the one that offers the risky options, the free choices, and it's the one that leads me down the endless paths, and builds walls to make me feel lost and empty. I am empty. My brain thinks it can handle it, everything will be better without the heart, after all wasn't it the heart that caused all this in the beginning? But I want my heart back. I want it back, fixed.

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Lots of dreams, 

Belle