Whenever I think of Love,
I think of you.
Not because of the painful memories you left,
But because of the tender scars that you've left on my heart.
The heart that you so badly wanted to steal,
The heart that you burnt bridges for,
The heart that you broke walls down for.
The heart that I let you steal thinking you were worthy of it.
Whereas whenever I think of Hatred,
I think of me.
Not for letting my guard down,
Or letting you in,
But for turning a blind eye.
To all the signs that were leading to this.
And for letting you walk out,
Not putting up a fight.
Mar 25, 2017
Mar 25, 2017 at 8:51 AM UTC
Whenever I think of Love,
I think of you.
Not because of the painful memories you left,
But because of the tender scars that you've left on my heart.
The heart that you so badly wanted to steal,
The heart that you burnt bridges for,
The heart that you broke walls down for.
The heart that I let you steal thinking you were worthy of it.
Whereas whenever I think of Hatred,
I think of me.
Not for letting my guard down,
Or letting you in,
But for turning a blind eye.
To all the signs that were leading to this.
And for letting you walk out,
Not putting up a fight.
Dedicated to someone
Request permission to use this poem