How do you cure a broken heart?

And for me the answer is, you wait
Through the moments when even inaction is too strenuous,
The time warp where the shortest second is too long
And the longest night, unbearable
When the world moves like clockwork while your heartbeat is weak
And your lids hang heavy but your eyes cannot sleep.
The wait is unearthly and the torture, divine
Like whips the minutes of doubt and unraveling regret
Slapping against your skin in wayward, clumsy design,
Parched and dying everything seems either mirage else cruel farce.
You crawl in the desert of your own mind,
Searching desperately for the next drop of water,
For if not, you surely must die
But the water never comes and yet your body inches on in unwanted miracle,
Superhuman? Or merely, an animal in fierce raw battle with the world?
The sun beats terribly upon your red, raw back
Every second surely must be your last, surely this pain will smite the very breath from your lungs,
With feverish cheeks you await the explosion of your infinitely fragile heart
But it does not come, but pumps on vengefully, mechanically in its empty shell,
Slowly leaking out the love it contained and replacing it with empty air or gall.
People walk by but they are aliens
For it seems no-one can understand your singular agony,
Surely no-one has ached as much as your emaciating heart
Or died a thousand times in a single night.
And the answer is, you wait,
Force food down your mouth to quiet your stomach,
Drink down water like its beer free-flowing from a tap,
Hold the bedpost tight through the nightmarish dark,
Drench your bedsheets from a dozen sweated shirts and a hundred other tears,
Howl to the moon even when it's light
Feel a werewolf's pain and the wildness of its eyes
Live exquisite moments of dullness and the plainness of hollows
The solitude of corners and the solace of shadows
You are out of harmony, disjointed from the world
Surely everyone must see you and rush you to the ward
But yet no-one does, and so the answer is that you wait.