Sorry, still no beat poetry for me.  I'm still stuck in this old school/emo-retro phase, which I obviously do not enjoy. 

Hypocrisy decided to extend its stay as you can see, even though the welcome mat was already kicked off the doorstep.

------

I can't remember how it was to feel complete.  More and more, loneliness creeps up on me.  I feel like I happily threw away a part of my body without any second thoughts but held on to the sad but reassuring fact that I'll get it back anyway.

Like when I was 14, I coughed out my heart and it looked so shiny and new.  I happily watched it disappear into the pockets of a boy whose dreams were made up entirely of action movies.  A year and 4 months later, I demanded my heart back.  He gently placed it on my lap.  I held it up onto my face and felt unfamiliar rough spots from underneath.
"I wasn't able to find the chipped off pieces", he said apologetically. 

I didn't mind.  It was worth it anyway.

Then when I turned 16, I threw my heart up again for another one.  Still having the same enthusiasm as I had with the last.  Got it back a year and 7 months later, and it looked a mess.  Since then, I've been keeping a tube of glue in my pocket everywhere I go because it keeps falling apart once in awhile.

I didn't mind.  It was worth it anyway.

And like I said, lately for the last few months, I've been throwing my heart intentionally onto a wall just to watch it smash into tiny pieces.  This time, loneliness took form of a guy with overgrowth of facial hair and boyish smiles and deepset eyes and braces(finally...) that changes color every month. 

I don't mind.  It's still worth it.

And I'll probably never learn, I'll just keep loving instead.