"The Chase" by sapoots
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My heart...why does it feel like it's being toured through hell? My days are best served making your heart happy, yet why is mine so empty? Why must I drag myself through rose bushes for a chance at your heart? Where is my heart? Is that a pulse? No... It's just your footsteps. Dancing away from me at full velocity, never batting an eye to the heart dragged along. I'm alive, not for long, but I feast on the crumbs of your love give to me the strength to persist. The taste is bitter, but this is the chase. 
 
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Postcards are 4.13" x 5.83"