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Jul 2014
I have no more love left in my heart; even if I do, I cannot and shall not want to feel it, nonetheless. I do not wish to love anyone else, either, because what I have learned shows me that loving someone could only lead to heartbreaking. My heart seems dead now, despite its warm beats; for neither love nor hate fills it. It is numb, it is no longer sore in its wounded state. But that is not the reason why I let it be that way. I want it 'dead' because I do not want to ruin it any more, by this ruthless little thing called 'love.' Love equals hatred to me now, love is unholy, love is ungodly; love is not love. There is no real love in this world; all love is ugly, despicable, deceitful. Thus I want to stay away from love. I want to make my fractured heart alive again. I want to keep the wholeness of it safe. I want to have my rights back to it; I want it to shine and smile and wrap me softly like it did before. I want it to live and breathe again; and beat again for myself and myself only, this time. I want nobody--no male in particular--to tear it away once more. It was once destroyed by betrayal and denials, and so I do not want such dire business to come and ruin it all over again. I want to keep my heart sacred. I want to keep it only for God. For Him, my Creator, and for Him only. I do not want anyone else to taint my poet's heart, not any more.
Written by
Stephanie Cynthia  F
(F)   
340
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