BROKEN
Love is a bird,
she needs to fly,
but never again
will I allow her to try.
The heart is too weak,
too delicate a thing,
to allow it to drown
in this sea of anguished pain.
I once handed you my heart,
already tattered and torn,
and you swore me an oath
that it would be returned in healthy form.
Now it is shattered,
broken like glass,
spit on and thrown
with hatred and scorn.
It is over, I guess,
my heart can't withstand,
it is over between us,
my heart yearning to heal...
Not that you really ever cared a great deal.
