Blindly, you handed her your already bandaged heart
She is careful at first,
Almost staring in wonder, and seeing what limits she can stretch it to
She needed to know, just how much she could put you through.
She found you had a weakness for her tennis player legs
As well as her piercing dark eyes and playfully messy hair
You cannot say no to her, but she knows this.
But I think she now knows you are addicted
I think she knows that she can poke your hearts old wounds
I think she knows she can place new ones,
And I fear she’s trying to scar deeper than all those before.
She knows she can call you names
Yet you’ll return
She knows she can break your heart then date a close friend of yours
But she’ll still have your heart.
It kills me to watch you slowly and painfully piece your heart back together
Only to place it back into her careless possession
How much can your poor heart endear?
How ever much that is
I’m sure she’ll be the one to find out.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Beautifuly despairing poem, well written with a great deal of thought.