What Hurts The Most Poem by Christine Lockehart

It's not what is
It's what was

Collapsed memories lost among the ash
Heart in throat
Too many words unspoken,
Too many opportunities lost
Never to be retrieved

Nostalgic chills of heartache running through my veins
Long, insomniatic nights
Lying in pure darkness
As silent tears turn to quivering sobs

What's happened to me?
Robbed of my sanity
No longer can I think straight
When you engulf my every thought

Knowing that I once had your heart
And swore never to inflict any pain upon you
For I truly loved (love) you

But you were too blind,
Too naive to realize what you have
And that you will never lose me
Regardless of your choices

In the end, all that I want you to know is this:
My love is loyal, infinite, unconditional, and everlasting
And unlike my love, my heart is sheer glass
I honestly felt that you would care for it dearly
But the shards spread upon the floor would differ

That's what hurts the most.