my love, it seems

my love,
it seems,
is never good enough
for the people
i want to
keep.

they like to
drain
my heart
and soak in its warmth
till they’ve quenched
their
thirst
and then leave
in the most
heartbreaking ways
ever.

people like to
take my emotions
into their hands
and mould it into
agony and hurt;
they like to
stitch my cuts
up with hatred
and clean my wounds
with salt and
hand me a glass of
poison
to down whilst i
wait to
recover.

and then
poof –

it’s all over.

or that’s what they
think
but i refuse to be
a victim
of loving too deeply
and trusting too much
and making a home
in someone else.

i refuse
to cry
one tear too many
over people
who walked away
from a heart
which loves with
no restraints
and i
refuse
to let my heart
keep on cracking
over people who
shun
my self-worth
and prance all
over my heart
and twist my love for
them
into a weapon
that implodes
within me.