Her heart

You had her heart in your hand just like you planned it.
But you choose to break it even more instead of applying the bandage.
Now she's abandoned why you're accompanied by a bunch of distractions.
Hoping to create a reaction from an already wounded soul.
You still get enjoyment from having her under your control.
Now she's afraid to trust.
A soft touch begins to crust.
A refurbished heart begins to rust.

Reviews

[.]

This poem is very relatable. I really enjoyed this poem, beautifully written Joey