You see the thing about inspiration is you can't find it, you have to let it find you.

It doesn't matter how many hearts you have, because none of them count if just ONE is broken.

I have a bad habit of wanting things to be the way they once where.

Lies, Lies, and more lies. So when I riped that letter in half I realized two things. The first rip is always the hardest, and as I sat there riping that letter up I never wanted to stop. The second thing I realized is paper can only rip so much.

Theres a not so magical land just out of reach from the rest of the world. In it the predictable is the unpredicatable, and noone has the ability to love. "Oh, what's it's name," you ask? ....MY HEART.

You know today I decided to go through all your old things. Because heaven knows you would leave them to hurt me. And it was when I saw that poem that you had wrote but never givin me, that I realized I was wrong.

Here I go pretending that I could care less. Saying that I don't love you anymore, but I know you can see right threw to my heart, it's a mirror reflecting you.

I laugh at myself because I still care and can't except the fact that I will never be able to fix what you broke.

My heart is the hardest puzzle I have ever had to put together, because so many pieces are missing and if I don't put it together exactly the way it was before I will never love again.

The saddest part of all of this is that when you shattered my heart you scattered it around. Every since then I haven't been able to find all the pieces to fix my tattered heart. So no I still can't love and it's all thanks to you.