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The human compulsion to love is like a wound

When taken care of tenderly
It heals with very little scars
When neglected and picked at
It scabs over and is rough to the touch

In that case my heart is covered in deep wounds and is suffering from infection

The fact is, i am not looking for the band aid nor the antibiotic
Because I know it will take time for my heart to build a strong defense against that which plagues it
That which doesn’t kill you makes you stronger right?
The only person that can take care of my heart is me and there is no miracle drug that’s going to fix it
Believing anything else would only be a placebo

My wounds will heal with visible scars
Most will be unattractive to the simple person who looks for my flaws
When the time comes the right person will look for the detailed story behind my scar and learn just the right way to take care of my wounded love

*to be completed*


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