I like to pretend
That my heart is made of ice
With jagged points that freeze and cut
Every time you aren't nice
Or that it is a flower
Whose petals wilt and fall
With every word you forget to say
One by one till I've lost them all
Or that perhaps
My heart is but a pen you bought today
That writes your every word
But when you're through you throw it away
Or that it is a song
You maybe used to sing
But now after some time has passed
You say you don't like its 'ring'
Or maybe it's a seashell
Bashed smooth and washed ashore
Just for you to pass by
And step on once more
Or shall it be a shadow
One that you say you didn't see
As it faded in the darkness
The darkness you brought to me
Maybe it is a bird you caught
And decided to lock away
But you forgot to give it food and love
So it died and you watched it decay
Maybe my heart is a feeling
One you could never quite enjoy
So you pulled it around and then left it
Maybe my heart is a toy
Maybe my heart is a joke to you
Maybe my heart is your name
Maybe you don't know the difference
Maybe they're one in the same
I like to try and pretend
That my heart belongs not to you
For pain is temporary
I know this to be true
But my heart is nothing more
Than an organ in my chest
That throbs with life I scarcely want
While thoughts of you I repress
And because my heart is an organ
It will beat on as organs do
But it won't explain the ache I feel
When I hear those words from you
YOU ARE READING
Poems
PoetryA collection of poems I wrote. Mostly not about happy stuff. They usually rhyme. First one doesn't.