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Your Broken Heart
September 8, 2009
Sat on a stack of bibles
And swore
You loved me
One day I granted
You a kiss
And the next
Day; a rainy night
I gave you as many
As we wanted
Blissfully, it seemed
The pitter-patter
Of the rain
Like it was dropped
From the sky in that perfect way
Just for use
On that night.
I’m sorry I broke
That which lay, treasured
In my hands
You gave me
Your heart.
But it doesn’t matter
anymore.
You are happy without
The kisses
That you once
Longed for.
And that’s good.
I suppose
© Asia B., Hudson, MA
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