Sound out the words,
Made of letters,
Like gentle feathers,
Sliding over skin,
Wonders coming from within,
Not from you,
But from me,
Sometimes because of what you do,
Changing topic now and then,
Letting you see,
Just what lurks inside me,
Until you know it all too well,
Then I break the spell,
Let you see all I can be,
To see if you'll leave,
My heart is on my sleeve,
Yet there are pieces on the floor,
I should have sewn them in more,
My sleeve is bloodied,
From the broken pieces,
Cutting me open as they fell,
And well,
It's no change to you,
I shouldn't love you the way I do,
Shouldn't forgive when what you said was not true,
Yet I did,
And here I stand,
Holding what connects my hand,
To the rest of my body,
Tied messily to my long sleeve shirt,
Stopping the bleeding,
Somehow not the pain,
Realizing you and I are both to blame,
We are not the same,
This was not a simple game,
This was my heart,
And everything is even more torn apart.