New Hearts Don't Replace Feelings

I.
I feel like the world
has
stripped
away
everything
from
me
in one violent, gigantic tug,
tearing out my heart and
leaving
a
gaping,
ragged
hole
in my chest, and
I
wasn’t
strong
enough
to fight it off
in time to stop the bleeding.

II.
You tried to extract
the
meaning
of
home
from my heart,
but you forgot to
erase
the
memories
from
my
mind,
and I’ll forever resent
my
heart
being
the
price
tag
and your justification that
I
feel
too
fucking
much
for
the
“wrong”
fucking
people.
I don’t remember putting you
in charge of my life.

III.
Please
don’t
go,
I’m
dying.

IV.
The doctors stitch me up.
I can feel
my
heart
pounding
painfully
in
my chest
underneath a scar
nobody else can see.
Who
am
I
now,
without
a
home?
My mind remembers in dreams,
and
all
I
can
feel
is
grief.
My new heart hurts
because it remembers
what
home
feels
like
and
I
can’t
go
back.

V.
New hearts
don’t
replace
feelings.

So where does that leave me?