Heart In Hand
My heart's held hostage by three words,
Love, fear, and doubt share equal thirds.
And countless tears have wet the ground,
for love, once lost, is seldom found.
You know just how to make me cry,
and when you do, I want to die.
And yet, I swear my love is true,
my heart is closed to all but you.
You flip out again and again,
acquiescing to mounting strain.
And view love through a fog of lies,
where shadows deceive doubtful eyes.
Your sweet disposition turns sour
when fear starts exerting power.
And you treat me with such disdain,
anxiety feeds off my pain.
Do you regret your love for me
because I will not set you free?
But if you cared for me at all,
why would you want to see me crawl?
Here I stand, broken heart in hand,
stuck in emotional quicksand.
And my heart needs to know you care,
before it breaks beyond repair.
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