my small broken thing

why the hell do i seem to find my self writing love poetry, i mean this is so lame but the words come to my mind unbidden, sigh

I own a small broken thing
it has been crushed
it has been betrayed
it has been stepped on
it has been battered
it has been smashed
it has been torn to pieces
it is broken
it is in my chest

you came
you picked up the pieces with care
you smiled and you dusted off the pain
you laughed as you put them together
you cried as you polished it up
you kissed it and made it whole once more

when i woke from my death
when i blinked at the second chance i have
when i tasted you on my lips
when i looked to see who had saved me
when you smiled at me as you vanished in to time
when i heard from those lips that saved me
when you said "live and love"

but even if my small thing in my chest is whole
it can never be whole with out you...
I miss you, and it's breaking again.

Author's Note

-tear-

Reviews

[613]

"with out" is one word; "without". There are a few other spelling errors & issues with punctuation.

I truly enjoyed this one; more in particular, your writing. Well done.

- Brittney

[Luna Zerimar]

I loved the repetition!

Joyful, but in the end it was sad.

[Siegfried]

Very unique approach to describing the pain of disappointment.

Breaking and mending, a process very difficult to portray

[little bad puppy]

thank you, the only way to portray it is to have felt it.