My heart
is torn in twos and threes,
is being ripped apart
where there are no seams.
I don’t love him,
I confess,
and says he’s fine-
but the pain in his voice
betrays him
as he tells me, “Sweet dreams.”
I want to love him.
I want to be ok with his arms,
his eyes,
his love surrounding me
and filling the cracks
in my weary, trodden heart.
But try as I may,
love exudes me
this one time it should not.
I cannot fall,
cannot desperately plunge
into the promise
of protection
and security
and whispered devotions to each other’s hearts.
It would’ve worked
this time.
I wouldn’t have been hurt
this time.
He would’ve loved me,
said it and meant it,
and resounded it
this time.
He promised;
I tried to believe.
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Submission Name: love at all the wrong... pt. 3
...The poem was really Good N E ways, I hope the best for you