Inadequate

Some days I'm torn apart. Like the teeth of lion, piercing a gazelle's heart. And I weep so much, those tears now no longer fall. I feel like a newborn, I'm learning how to crawl. This love, I showered him, like rain in a downpour. It wasn't sufficient enough, like a nasty hurricane he tore my love up. I pick up the pieces of my shattered heart, and I run behind him. 'Sweetheart, sweetheart—please don't leave!' I have all these heart pieces, I beg of him, love me. I'm inadequate in his eyes you see. I can beg like a pauper. I grovel like a stray dog in need of food, but my love makes me the biggest fool. He won't take the love I have for him back. I'm inadequate. I bother too much, so I grow cold. But when I blink an image of his love being given away taunts me. I'm appalled, and in pain, I fall to my knees. I'm replaceable, confused of how can this be? I'm inadequate you see. No he doesn't want the broken, crumbled heart. Even if he's to blame for my poor heart's state. I plead and beg, I'm pathetic. Not one single time though do I regret it. I wish at times life was like the movies. In the end I'd get my guy, we'd tape my heart up. And he'd soothe it, no more aches. This isn't a fable. I have no happy end, as you can see I'm inadequate.