When she looked at me today,
My heart broke in four separate pieces:
One felt the pain of a spear in my side;
Another died and took with it
The smiles I had remembered each day.
The third took my voice, until
I couldn’t remember why I had come,
Or what I had wanted to say.
The last took my hand, to lead me away,
Until I was taken, and going,
I realized, if my heart is to be broken,
There is no one else to take it—
No one else I would let break it.

Log in or registerto write something here or to contact authors.