Untitled


From a ravaged heart, one cannot recover.
The heart does not grow back its parts,
the way a lizard does its tail.
Instead, the heart wretches more with each pinch and pull.
The next offering costs more than the last,
and it's for this reason we die.
Broken hearts do not make us stronger,
if its only fate is to keep breaking.
My heart has caves the size of canyons,
and it's for this reason I die.

Poem Rating:
Click To Rate This Poem!

Continue Rating Poems


Share This Poem