you took my heart
and played with it
you threw it to the ground
and stomped on it
you left it out on the curb
and locked it out
you forgot that you left it outside,
and it sat there
all night in the rain and snow,
cold and alone.
once you came outside in the morning,
it was near death, frozen.
it was weak.
I wish you wouldn't have done that;
my heart ran cold and drained,
disheveled and torn.
somehow my heart
was still beating,
and you decided to give it back to me.
the only difference
is that I woke up
with bruises and frostbite
on my body the next morning.
YOU ARE READING
Berry Tree
PoetryA book of poems, scrambled thoughts, and endless stories. A bit mysterious, but that's the fun of it. You make the story; you imagine, and wonder. Each page is like picking a new berry from a tree.
