Little Heart

I don't really know what to write about anymore.

Little heart,

How many more metaphors will I desecrate to make sense of you?

How many times do I have to weigh my words against your mistakes--

It isnt fair that you're not learning anything.

We've been through this too many times for it to still hurt like this.

He holds your hand in the dark,

Just like all the other boys you tried to call home,

And just like them he says,

"You're not a bad person."

And of course,

You're inclined to believe him.

Its almost predictable;

The way sweet nothings will mean everything.

You ignore the way men always love you too roughly;

They're all one touch away from loving you violent.

Little heart,

How much do you think you owe me now?

How many times have I pulled you away from the edge,

From the storm,

From the fire,

From your own intentions,

So we could be safe?

Little heart,

I know you resent me for never letting you be happy.

But dont you know.

Have you ever really been happy?