My will.
I go through my day with only the most fleeting touches of emotion, and the rest is the hazy grey of clouds about to break.
I'm trying to come to accept it.
My throat.
I don't have the voice to cry anymore. When I manage tears, they run silently.
Silence loudly echoes in my ears.
My heart.
This is something I thought I had guarded against, but once again, I let the walls down.
A broken vessel can't hold much, but its fragments still ache with the pain.
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