Not bulletproof
2Have been laying in my bed almost the whole day and just glared at the roof, letting my mind travel back in time. Started to think of a lesson In my middle class my teacher told me that the human heart is roughly the size of the heart.
I dont remember what the teacher told us next,I was to busy curling my fingers into my hand
Whatever I was feeling had to have been made by something larger than my tiny hand: Something more powerful than my thirteen year old fist.
I closed my eyes and punched the desk as hard as i could, The skin on my knuckles tore open, and blood surfacing shooting pain up in my arm.
And I walked with teary eyes to the nursery room, when she asked why I did it?
I could only say that I tested my heart,let out all my feelings for her,i rememeber that it it pained me more inside than on my hand.
these days, I still ball my hand into a fist and just looks at it for a while.
I often do it everyday, and sometimes i punch something, like my desk, wall or the shelf..
My fist has gotten a little bigger since then, but it still breaks and bleeds just the same..
Why? im still unsecure on how much weight and pain a heart can take.
its wierd that a hand breaks easier than a heart.
Its just bones,weins,muscles and skin that covers the hand. And the heart is just a muscle, but it dosent break so easily.
When it does its takes ages for it to repair itself though.
Going to escape the world once again.
Kthxbye!
Bra,Starkt skrivet vännen <3