Tortured.

I often wonder if there is a place in this world for my heart. For the longest time I can remember feeling that dull ache in it. Like a small weight had been placed upon it and refused to move. They say the best writers are those with a tortured soul. That is how my soul feels…tortured, used, defeated.

And yet, I still persevere. I still hope and dream that one day, I will meet a soul like mine. One that is reckless and beautiful. One that abandons all doubt and jumps in head first because life is beautiful and mysterious. And there must be a place in this world for my affection. I don’t just want any warm body next to mine. I want one that I am attached to by invisible strings of love and electricity. I want to feel someone with every part of my being, and perhaps one day the weight on my heart will lifted and my soul will no longer feel the burden of the world.

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