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I’ve recently developed a hypothesis It’s crazier than the idea of an atheist The truth is the hardest pill to swallow when it stings like a vaccination So I’m dealing with the fact that my love may be broken I’ve had a broken heart but those can be repaired With time, effort and divine intervention The fibers of the heart can be re-stitched together But my love – my ability to love – seems to be destructive When you care too much, you lose what you wanted most I wanted you; so I said so That worked like a poison, numbing your feelings for me My love is like a broken boomerang I throw it out with heartfelt emotions Hoping and waiting for your love in return But my love never comes back at all It doesn’t even come back as a letter ‘returned to sender’ It simply died when it was on its way Whether in your negligence or on the journey love take us on My love died like a single drop of water in the desert I wish I could figure out the enigma of love and the defect mine seems to have My love is broken like a bird without her wings Grounded against her nature and denied to possibilities of true life My love is withering in my own heart – you can only love yourself so much I was ready to give you all I am But somewhere along the way I feel like my love is not only broken… I tried another time to love another soul My broken love had a heart attack and died in route to the grave It wasn’t taken to a hospital because my love was a lost cause Something unworthy of its name; love My love was never seen as love by any other being It was seen as infatuations or crushes that crushed life out of attraction So now that my love is dead, what do I have to offer the world? We all respond to lost love in our own way I would fight until I had no breath or strength – then again Maybe it’s not my love you need, or even want That’s the trouble with loving you I overstep, overlook and over-wish My love was just too strong for it’s own good Now I weep in the arctic for the faithless cruelty An arctic that I call summer from the frozen tundra of my heart Hell has frozen over – hell has become my heart
0
Aug 20, 2012
Aug 20, 2012 at 7:40 PM UTC
Hypothesis of My Broken Love
I’ve recently developed a hypothesis It’s crazier than the idea of an atheist The truth is the hardest pill to swallow when it stings like a vaccination So I’m dealing with the fact that my love may be broken I’ve had a broken heart but those can be repaired With time, effort and divine intervention The fibers of the heart can be re-stitched together But my love – my ability to love – seems to be destructive When you care too much, you lose what you wanted most I wanted you; so I said so That worked like a poison, numbing your feelings for me My love is like a broken boomerang I throw it out with heartfelt emotions Hoping and waiting for your love in return But my love never comes back at all It doesn’t even come back as a letter ‘returned to sender’ It simply died when it was on its way Whether in your negligence or on the journey love take us on My love died like a single drop of water in the desert I wish I could figure out the enigma of love and the defect mine seems to have My love is broken like a bird without her wings Grounded against her nature and denied to possibilities of true life My love is withering in my own heart – you can only love yourself so much I was ready to give you all I am But somewhere along the way I feel like my love is not only broken… I tried another time to love another soul My broken love had a heart attack and died in route to the grave It wasn’t taken to a hospital because my love was a lost cause Something unworthy of its name; love My love was never seen as love by any other being It was seen as infatuations or crushes that crushed life out of attraction So now that my love is dead, what do I have to offer the world? We all respond to lost love in our own way I would fight until I had no breath or strength – then again Maybe it’s not my love you need, or even want That’s the trouble with loving you I overstep, overlook and over-wish My love was just too strong for it’s own good Now I weep in the arctic for the faithless cruelty An arctic that I call summer from the frozen tundra of my heart Hell has frozen over – hell has become my heart
muggleginger
Written by
American
Aug 20, 2012
Aug 20, 2012 at 7:40 PM UTC
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