Another Victim

Living with a broken heart

Means keeping my distance from the start,

Recognizing when it's time to depart

And leaving another victim in my wake.

Ghosting is a form of art

That I've perfected, topped the charts.

Intrusive thoughts keep me apart

From the rest of the world, for their sake.

Emotions hidden, heart guarded;

Words written with you regarded.

Then I caught sight of you;

Locked eyes with you

In this crowded living room.

My brain shined a spotlight on you--

Everyone else faded from view,

And my heart was abloom.

How did you accomplish this feat?

Why is my face flushed with heat?

Gentle eyes, kind smile.

You and I chat for a while.

My heart flutters deep within its cage.

Is it okay to feel this at this stage?

To be swept up so easily at my age?

I don't know how much more I can take...

It's like you knew with a look--

A brief glimpse was all it took.

You picked the lock like a crook

And stole my heart from its prison.

Chains gone, soul exposed.

New dawn and I'm not opposed

To this point of view.

I can pinpoint the clues:

You're not disappointed, you

Give me a smile that makes my chest ache.

Then you walked away from me

Onto a better sight to see,

And like a mutiny out at sea,

You left another victim in your wake.