You broke my heart too many times
to say you're still my own -
time,  it never really heals
the wounds that I have known;
the battles never won,
the spats that never stopped -
weeds that shrank the flowers sown
grew out of every plot.
I failed to cultivate the ground
whereupon you walked
where you touched the earth;
you hid behind the shelter
of sarcasm and mirth;
buried all your tortured words
with lies and sweet deceit;
and compromise was just a word
but one we couldn't meet.
So I'm wishing you the best
you never really knew me;
though you pretended otherwise
when at last you set me free.