I knew you would break my heart the first time we said hello. You caught my eye but another girl caught you first, you winked at me as you turned to her. Your eyes were caramel and chocolate and the last burning embers of a fire on the coldest night of winter and I knew I was done for.
I knew you would break my heart the first time we kissed. You ran away afterwards like a little boy and left me standing in the rain. Maybe the rain fogged up my eyes or maybe it was just the way your lips felt on mine but I failed to resent that I was already destined to chase you.
I knew you would break my heart the first time I slept with you. Not slept with you, just slept with you. You see, I was never the kind of girl who wrote poetry but that night I realized love poems were formed on the way your lips parted, and I suddenly could have written a hundred on the beat of your heart.
I knew you would break my heart when you would let go of my hand as soon as we left the shadows of our privacy, when I noticed our intimacy only existed in darkness.
I can’t make your name taste bitter on my tongue, as hard as I’ve tried. It’s still soaked in the sweetness of my youth. My naive choice to be hurt by you than left with nothing at all.
I can’t make my tears for you hot and angry, only soft and melancholy. I dropped my armor at your feet and I handed you the sword.
I used to say you robbed me of my innocence, of my romance. But you didn’t make me harden, I did that on my own.
Maybe it’s not fair to say you broke my heart because I walked headfirst into the blade, offering my body up to you like an unwanted sacrifice. Offering my secrets to you like undesired gifts with ripped up receipts.
Maybe it’s not fair to say you broke my heart because I tore it out and placed it at your feet without telling you, how could you avoid stepping on something you didn’t even notice was there?
Submitted to ArtParasites by Marguerite P.