poetry

…And She Broke It

…and she broke it,

as if it didn’t matter much at all,

then she spoke it,

like she never walked from behind that wall,

then she pointed,

so much distance in between,

but her fingers,

went through every part of me,

and she broke it,

but like the waves that rock the seas,

she could evoke it,

every feeling she’d set free,

then she stoked it,

from the embers to a fiery tree,

arms wide open when she wanted it to be,

and she broke it,

as if a pawn could win the game,

then she spoke it,

just to put it all to shame,

like the blue sky

that turns to sullen gray,

leaving storms

in every rolling wake,

and she drowned me after burning up the day,

as if she didn’t know that she made me ache,

and she broke it,

hearts that were meant to bleed,

then she spoke it,

so hard to make believe,

then she walked on,

like I never would perceive,

another flower

planted from that ancient seed,

in the moment

everything that’s meant to be,

just to wither

in the breaths of fantasy,

never seeing

that she slowly set me free,

all those times,

she was coming back to me

…and she broke it,

but for the memory,

then she spoke it,

but the echo that broke across the sea,

made me wonder

if she’d ever even heard,

’cause the story

isn’t true to word,

like the moon,

I always pulled her back to me,

but the hurt has finally let it go,

fingers slipping

on that knotted rope,

falling, falling,

I find my wings have caught the breeze

on that slippery slope,

..and I spoke it, though it won’t matter if I do,

then I broke it..

every single..

I

love

you

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