Your Broken Heart

Sat on a stack of bibles

And swore

I loved you

One day you granted

Me a kiss

And the next

Day; a rainy night

We sat below your open window

Mused of the future

Blissfully, it seemed

The patter of the rain

On your windowsill

Was dropped

From the sky in that perfect way

Just for us

On that night.

I’m sorry I broke

That which lay, treasured

In my hands

You gave me

Your heart.

But it doesn’t matter


You are happy


The bibles which I


Ashes down the

City drain on the next

Rainy day.

PeelingBlackPaintedWalls PeelingBlackPaintedWalls
18-21, F
Mar 10, 2010