So there's this girl...
And her name is Misery.
_____
My heart was boxed
I had hid the key
Until the lock she picked
granted entry
Her hands were warm
When they grabbed my heart
But when she released,
The thing fell apart
I found some pieces,
Bound them all
My love looked away,
With no care at all
So here I am,
Still gathering pieces
Red, ripped, and torn,
Please hold them, Jesus
All it takes
Is the thought of her
To see her smile
Through teary blur
To hear her voice,
So sweet and warm,
Throws me right back out
Into the raging storm
Of thundering pain,
And pouring tears
O, if love can die,
It must take years
So here I am,
Still scrambling for shreds
Of my cold, beating heart,
Torn, ******, and red
But I know there's a Mender
That will stitch every thread
Of my heart back to whole
For I trust what God said
I'll wait for a Mender
Who'll bring peace to my soul
At God's nod, she'll come fill this
Jagged, gaping black hole
In time, He'll send a Mender
Who will heal every wound
She will mend with a smile
That's as bright as the moon
In time, He'll send a Mender
To repair every seam
When I gaze into her eyes
I will witness Heaven's gleam
|Written November 29, 2011 or sooner|
**Story**
In the summer of 2011, when I was 16, almost 17, I fell in love with a girl who broke my heart. Deep pain lasted for years. During the time I wrote this poem, I believed I could hear the voice of God. "Inspired" poetry directly from the real-time flow of emotions was something I interpreted as Him communicating with me. Through some feeling or thought during prayer prior to these events, I believed God had promised me a wife, a soul mate whom I have always longed & hoped for. I believed that even though I'd fallen for this girl in a deeper way than I ever have for anyone else, God would send someone else who was a more perfect match, and in the end my wounds would be healed, while I likewise healed my soul mate's, and a Job-style happy ending would take place. I wrote this poem in faith of that perceived promise.
**Trivia**
Stanza 4 originally read differently. I don't remember exactly how it went, but after
*So here I am,
Still gathering pieces*
there were lines saying my heart was
* ...like Reese's
Peanut butter cups
That have been squeezed too much*
This partially related to the fact that the common mispronunciation of "Reese's" candy has always bugged me, and through rhyming with "pieces" I may cause the reader to utter the correct pronunciation. Alas!
Upon reading my poem, my Mom told me that the image of melting chocolate in the hands was too light, and contrasted in an almost silly way with the relatively dark and sorrowful tone of the rest of the poem. I looked over it and agreed, ultimately shortening that stanza and changing the final lines to
*Red, ripped, and torn,
Please hold them, Jesus*
which I liked better.
More recently, when approaching this poem to add onto here, I noticed that, in accordance with my Mom's evaluation, stanza 3 could also use a change for the same reason. The second line therein originally read,
*Glued them all*
and so I recently had it in my mind to change it, too. I ended up changing it upon posting it here now, to
*Bound them all*
Which also holds imagery of guarding my heart from others, while especially illustrating the result keeping my heart in a state of locked, or bound attachment to, and longing for her specifically, and my long-held hope that I could still have a chance with her some day. Unable to move on and not wanting to, I bound my heart to her for too long. I still have difficulty with letting go of my desire for here completely, and my sorrowful longing, even now, nearly four years later.
© 2017 A.D. Sifford.
I'm okay with you sharing my poems, but I ask that you show courtesy. Please be honest about the authorship by attributing it to my name. Thank you,
- Sifford