"waiting game"
The first time,
I wanted so badly to love you
That I dove headfirst, blindly,
Into your depths.
But once you had me,
You forgot me
And so
I drowned.
The second time –
Fool me twice –
I didn't have to try:
I still loved you from the first.
But your lips found another's, and
Her mouth was sweeter than mine.
I'm sorry came too late:
Second chances don't come twice.
After all,
If I had tried to love you again
My days would have been spent
Only waiting for you to hurt me.
Who could fathom
That a heart could break twice
Against the same fault line?
YOU ARE READING
Meraki
Poesíameraki [may-rah-kee] (noun): when something is done with soul, creativity, or love; when you leave a piece of yourself in your work. No matter what I write, a part of me ends up among the words. A collection of poems.
