My heart was a blank piece of paper
Crisp; clean; untouched
Waiting patiently to be trusted with beautiful words
Written by the warmest hands
Treasured forever like a sweet memory
But you came along and without permission
You wrote the harshest poetry
Cruel thoughts leaving imperfections
Scratches; scribbles; illegible rambles
Like too thick blankets suffocating me
Sadly I have learned
Few people believe in recycling.
Copyright © Ari Ing | Year Posted 2015
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