tear my heart out.

Tear my heart out. It’s no longer serving a purpose in my body.
I don’t want it, don’t need it. Take it, keep it, get rid of it, whatever you want!
Just tear it out of my body, take it from its designated place in my cold body.

A purpose. It does serve a purpose. A purpose I don’t need it for.
One it doesn’t do right. How can it fail so horribly? I don’t feel what I need to,
what I should. I barely feel anything. Are these emotions
made up? Something I’m pretending? I can’t tell.

Is there a difference between what is real and what is pretend?
Does ‘real’ even exist?

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