the forgotten ones

The mountains glow pink from the setting sun,
and the snow reflects perfection,
and I am sitting here holding my heart in my hands to try and keep it from bleeding out.

No one told me that grief and regret were part of the package, even after you'd done the hard thing and blown up your life.
No one told me that you could get a happy ending, and find your one true love, and still walk around with a gaping wound in your chest.
I didn't know that every sweet thing would always have a bitter aftertaste because of the life I'd lived before.

I am being asked to hold too much.
Grief comes in waves, and I find myself drowning in it and relishing the way it burns my lungs and takes my tears all the way down into its depths.

The sky is dark,
and the mountains are harsh with blues and grays and blacks,
and I am sitting here holding my heart in my hands as it just keeps on beating.