We break and hurt.
Destroy the hearts of ones we love.
Nothing hurts more then that gentle shove.
As I’ve been in this business of broken hearts.
Offering a service I don’t understand.
The taste of another is a different strand.
Loving things that shouldn’t be so.
The riptide of a heart pulling me undertow.
I might not have been what you want me to.
You might’ve idolized the imagery, or the way the moon lit my life.
You wanted the world and I’d only give a small portion of mine.
Now we drown in the whirlpool of time.
While the crescendo carries us out.
I might’ve hurt you but I had my doubt.
And untrusting heart who wasn’t willing to sort about.
My love is deep but our time was short.
Let’s call it business, it’s about time I closed this shop.
It’s rundown and about to flop.
Flipped the sign around, and figured myself out.
About the Creator
S.W.
A poet by way of life. Words just came easy to me, though I may never write a bestseller. I just want you to feel understood. At the end of my work if we’re closer than when you started reading I’ve done my part.
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