Your clandestine heart,
I question who is in it.
Am I the reason for your grief
or your joy, which is it?
Our trust, so sacred,
or so I believed. But
you break it so easily
gambling away our faith
in a lost bet.
The monochrome nature
of your heart,
I used to love how
constant it was.
But was it just a
camouflage?
Because it gave me
more pain than anything
I could ever receive
in this world.
How can I know
the density of
your love again?
How can I know
the depths of
our trust again?
It has already been
broken once, I'm afraid
you'll do it again.
How do I refrain from
thinking like this?
The violets that you
planted in my garden,
The roses that don't bloom
even when the spring comes.
The mud that we had spread
with both our fingers.
The feeling, quite magical,
our love was translucent.
But then what changed?
What made you not honor
my letters anymore?
What made you forget
the passion I held for you?
What made you give up on
dreams that we built together?
How could you shun me
without an answer?
It's the worst atrocity
ever done to my heart,
The worst pain I wouldn't
even wish to my nemesis.
Where my heart is tore open
and then wrung dry.
Now it's left dead and cold
in the same garden
of our home.
The flowers have wilted
away by now,
The soil has hardened
from the lack of touch.
Since the nurture stopped,
everything has turned into dust.
****
Words collected from:
peachygrants