Don’t call me
At seven pm and expect
That my heart won’t race just a little.
When you text like that
How can you expect me not to laugh.
Most of all,
Don’t leave her side—
Her, who stands tall,
With sparkles in her eyes
And chocolate hair—
You’re a fool if you think that
I won’t smile even just a little.
I think that
The first (and the second and the third)
Taught me that when one steals your heart,
One also can rob all the love and warmth
That he crafted in the beginning.
They shatter it
And it cries, it wails with heaving sobs
And it hurts so damn much.
They taught me to forget
How a heart is supposed to beat
And that all men
Will be thieves.
So I’m sorry,
But please don’t run your hands through my hair,
Don’t call out my name in front of a dozen others,
Don’t leave her side for mine,
Don’t fool me into a million thoughts.
And don’t blame it on me;
It’s tired. And bruised.
to the boy who makes me falter.
to those who were given false hope.