timothy the teddy bear

It shackles around my heart. Is that what it does after each 'the end'? Closed off once again, but wanting, yearning, craving, and seeking, but the feeling just pretends. Because each time I talk to someone, I smile at the thought of feeling. But those smiles, laughs, and memories will never begin the healing.

But every time I look at him, his beady eyes, fluffy body, and small in size, I realise the truth behind the lies. That the truth now is to throw away the man, and the bear, you once prized. Cause your heart should never cry, not over a man who left in the a blink of an eye.