I offered my heart once to you. It was perfect, whole, and untarnished. I offered it to you with gleaming eyes and hands stretched out into the void. I was ready for the free fall. But you told me you can't accept a whole heart, there would be no place for yours.
So I decided to rip it apart in the center, hoping your heart would fit the other half. I offered myself to you in halves. Hopeful, cautious, but burning with anticipation. But you told me then that your heart needs more than half of what I offered.
So I cut a little bit more and stitch myself back up for you. It could be the perfect fit, the one you've needed all along. But you told me never mind, you were not looking for a heart at all.
YOU ARE READING
Trinkets
PoetryIf you want to read without the commitment, this is the perfect book for you. You can open it and read a few excerpts once in a while, or you can read it in one go. The entries here have various themes which may confuse readers as it confused the wr...
