Old Bandages

A heart, left bleeding in the wake of betrayal – partially mended by the healer called Time, loosely wrapped in old bandages desperately in need of changing, scabs continually ripping open and bleeding anew – cries out to be healed, mended forever, cared for and loved by one as if it were their own, to be held like a precious stone, to finally be whole.

(wrote this a while back, finally got around to posting it)

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