#annmaire
One half of my heart you stole from me
and placed upon a table
where you stood holding a knife in your left hand
and a warm, soft cloth in your right.
I trusted you with my life and my soul,
but I was always terrified of trusting you with my heart.
The first girl I had ever looked at
and dared to call it love.
And it was love.
I loved you so deeply,
and I always looked after your heart.
I fed it kindness
and watered it with happiness.
Even through the rough times,
I still cared for it gently.
A knife or a warm, soft cloth?
Your heart was always on the right side of me.
Even with the devil screaming in my ear,
I still kept you on the right side.
What did I do to make you like this?
What happened that I missed?
Please tell me.
I want to know.
Was my heart too much to look after?
Did you run out of food and water for it?
I felt the pressure that day.
I felt the knife ripping and tearing my heart in half.
You chose the left side.
The knife.
Give it back, I beg you.
Every word that fell from your mouth
drove the blade deeper into my heart.
Give it back, I beg you.
Stop talking.
Don’t speak.
Just give it back.
Please—give my heart back.
“Fake love,” you called it.
How could you be so cruel?
That was the moment I changed.
I am inconsolable now.
Nobody can undo
the feelings you left inside me.
The only way I’ll ever be free from your knife
is if I forget you.
But I don’t want to forget you.
I want to love you.
Yet you will never accept that, will you?
You don’t have to.
I’ll accept it for you,
along with all the pain that follows behind it.
I will try my hardest to forget you.
I’m sure you’re trying to do the same.
From this moment on,
I will learn from my mistakes.
At least…
I hope I will.
May 26
May 26, 2026 at 9:29 PM UTC