“Heartbroken”

Pouring love into the cracks you made

She’s heartbroken.

Her trust is shattered.

How dare you — how could you turn so cold to somebody so warm.

So warm and welcoming. Tender, but strong.

I should’ve known all along.

Now there’s a wall sky high. She had to build it practically overnight — just for protection. She doesn’t want to get hurt anymore.

I beg to be let in. She doesn’t know who to trust. How could you do this to us?

Brick by brick, I work on taking the wall down just so I can get through.

My words are full of truth, but she can’t see it because she’s still hurting from you.

What am I supposed to do? Pay for your mistakes? I can’t walk away. Something keeps pulling me to her. Is it her words?

She can’t trust me, even though I packed a bag and left — even though I brought all of my tools, including my notebook and pen.

I write the things I can’t say, hoping she knows in between my lines is her safe space.

I wish I could take all her pain away. I wish she felt like she could let me in.

So I just sit outside, up against the wall — tell her I won’t let her fall (alone).

Flowers, poems, and texts. I promise her I’m not like the rest. I promise her I’m not that person that took hold of her heart and didn’t know how to carry it or how to protect it. I bend down to help her pick up the pieces, promising I know how to take care of it.

I stick around to help her patch it up, putting the pieces back where they belong. I can feel her pain for a mile away. It comes in waves, and right now it’s engulfed me like a trapped surfer. I don’t even try to escape.

I just hope my words can make the pain run away.