And now is all I'll ever be
Today is Friday.
Monday your heart was summer sun and champagne, your eyes calm, warm, content. Monday you felt finally whole, stitched and new, shiny.
Then your smiling white knight slammed his fist through your chest, squeezed your heart free of your body and let it drop onto the gravel driveway.
You deserved this, you had it coming, you stupid, stupid girl, this is all your fault.
And the week that should've been the perfect end to the best summer you've had since you were 16 was suddenly sporting giant spiderweb cracks through everything. You smiled because you had to, but your eyes were closed and dark and grey against the August sun. Your lips always tasted like salt.
Breathing wasn't hard, but you had to remind your brain of all the steps. In, out. In, out, in, smile, out. Every tick of your heart slowly pushing and pulling, splintering and smashing like a child with a toy, pressing the broken pieces together and wondering why that isn't enough to make them stay.