Poetry

One Scarred Heart

I used to be his everything,

Now I'm just one single thing.

A painful reminder, one bared regret.

One choice that - painfully - he will never forget.

What love is shown this way?

I used to believe what he had to say.

Now I just live in fear, of each passing day.

I've become so good at make-believing that it'll all be okay.

But the truth that I'm not willing to admit,

The scars that I cannot omit,

Is that I am breaking down.

You step on me, as if I am already a part of the ground.

I take your words as the razors that they are,

I deserve these scars that lace around my heart.

And my only regret is that this is just one scar,

One gaping, rigid wound, left more than slightly ajar.

Constant, flowing pain courses through me,

And I am afraid that - in truth - you can see.

And yet you do nothing - defy nothing - to cease it.

You just stand, emotionless, as it rips into me - into us - bit by bit.

It is a burning pain,

Like there is no such thing as acid rain.

We've been ripped, there's nothing to gain.

And stitches are not strong enough to reclaim.

Torn apart,

No one would ever believe that we were one heart.

A rigid, nasty, ugly scar,

This is what we are.