Wounded

I hide my tears in

the black of night.

The pain rips through me

like a hot, fresh wound.

The greatest fear

I have ever felt

washes over me.

I don’t want you to leave.

 

There, in the distance, you stand.

I cry out, aching for your love,

but you can’t hear me.

Was this worth it?

To give my heart to you

and watch it torn,

bloody and beating,

from my chest?

A wounded heart can

only beat for so long

before it bleeds to death,

each thump slower than

the next.

Is this what you want?

To kill me and

my undying love for you?

 

You know I would do anything

to make you love me.

Just don’t leave me

and I’ll be perfectly fine.

The thought of you,

my most precious friend,

leaving me is highly unbearable.

 

Black night tears stain

the flushed wan cheeks

of my distraught face.

A torn heart that once

trusted you cries out

for a love it will never

have again.

Author's Note

Another poem written after a good friend left me because of a misunderstanding.