Bleeding hearts

The crimson that escapes the thousand cuts that decorate my heart

You slowly get acquainted to their faces,

Then get familiar with their honey voice.

You memorize their scent and

Commit their face to memory.

You learn about their history

And accept their wounds and scars.

Then you make your magnanimous

Yet undaunted claims of love.

And then you wrap the binding threads

Around your bleeding hearts.

Then you start stitching

Welcoming the agonizing sting

Pretending that its love.

Until you realize only when its done

The tangled mess that can’t be undone.

So long your hearts beat together

Until they decide to rip them apart.

Tangled threads snapped

One by one by one.

Until there is only a bloody mess

Waiting to be ignited by three match sticks

Author's Note

Please share your views!

Reviews

[Elizabeth]

wow, this was brutally honest. the words contained a lot of power, and expressed being infatuated with someone perfectly.
thank you for sharing

[Clarity]

Wow! Very expressive of love seen through rose-coloured glasses and the misconceived belief that it is the most truest of love, to give freely and fully only to find that their motive was for what they could get. The imagery that comes from your words shows someone so young looking for love in all the wrong places and finding it under a guise that is deceptive in order to take what is precious, and then to discard as if it was nothing but rubbish to be thrown out.
Keep writing and expressing your views and perceptions, well done