Pulling, pulling, pulling
You're pulling at my heart strings
Ever so slightly strumming a tune with them
With such a grand tune should be a grand artist
But there is nothing grand about losing your place
The artist weeps while strumming
Instead, there is a fine line between loving you and letting go
Picking wrong from even worse
The lesser of the two evils
To love you pains me
You're so far away but I can touch your heart
Beating slowly
To let you go devastates me
Never speaking to one another again
But maybe it's better for us all that way
I Could not, should not, would not
Let you go
Or love you still
Aching, aching, aching
My heart aches in distraught
To choose would end this tune
YOU ARE READING
What Lies Beyond
PoetryAnd while we may feel lonely, we learn that we're not alone.
