A Tangle of Hurt and Happiness - A collection of poetry

Murder of my Heart

How do I write about love with a heart so dead?
Easy, I just think about what laid it to rest.
You see, I have a love for writing about my end.
But when something is this fragile, you shouldn't try to make it bend.

Loving you has killed me.
There's nothing left of who I used to be,
Can't you see?
How can a dead heart ever be set free?

Nothing you do can hurt me now.
There's nothing left, don't ask me how.
I don't know the answer anymore.
But I do know that loving you any longer would be a bore.

I've wasted all my life on you.
Ten years of unrequited love wasn't worth it, it's true.
After all of that, letting go was just something I had to do.
If you felt the way I did, you'd choose this too.

You know, I've forgotten what it was about you I liked.
That tends to happen as the years dull the heart-clinging spikes.
When love is such a pain,
You can't focus on what caused the wound, only the fact that it remains.

So, how is it exactly I write about love?
Well, the better question is, why are you still all I think of?
When my heart has been dead so long,
How do I still find reason to write a song?