Everything is never ending
Like the love I don’t have for you
The residue of my broken heart
Gently resides of the palms of another
The other,
Who doesn’t have the ability to vision the gift my heart procures.
The other,
Who is captivated with the lust she radiates
The other,
Who will settle for a processed heart rather than the rawness mine bears  
The other,
Who doesn’t even appreciate the spelling of my name.
For a moment I thought,
Why give my heart to the blind one
After all maybe somethings have an ending
Maybe something that was once folded and tucked away could be dusted
That moment has become a reality