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A pain,
as sharp as a thousand carving knives
being pushed into
the small of your back,
surges through your body
as the first crack appears.
The hairline crack
forms a deep crevice
with a river of hurt running though it,
eroding away the breaking heart.
As the cervice grows
to the ends of the heart,
like a snag in women's nylons
grows to the point of uselessness,
the two halves of the broken heart
are continents drifting apart
on a sea of hurt.