Poetry / No Breaking What's Broken

You say Don't love me and I cry inside.

You tell me my heart will break if you hold it;

but it's been your number one possession forever.

Let the memories fade and slates be wiped clean.

Kiss her, don't kiss her...

What does he - what do you tell yourself?

You know how she feels and you know I don't care.

Maybe I'm broken, defected.

I can only love, for no ounce of hate resides in me.

And for that, I'm faulty.

I tire of writing poetry.

Perhaps I will retire early, become a young lonely crone.

Maidenhood is too lonely.

Motherhood is above me;

because no one wants me.

Or that's how it's seen.

You can't break my heart, this I know.

I've been breaking my own heart since one thousand years ago.

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