It's like saying my head is killing me. And don't get me wrong it is, but so is my heart not broken by love but shattered by indecency and insult of the human condition. The crabs in the bucket, but that can be mended by time, change of environment or situation. A thousand cures. But what happens to a cracked broken soul? Soul as in spirit, hope and faith? Mine for example a festering abysmal void of inadequacy and self judgment? Mine which used to be the foundation for so many others to build them selves up on. Now I can barely look at my own son? He deserves a real dad.
