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Bull's Eye
There is a bull’s eye on my heart.
A knife protrudes up to the hilt.
It twists and turns and tears apart,
defines the edges of bloodguilt,
but I survive, rebuild from start.
The bull’s eye shines - I can’t fake it.
Continues on around, around.
Again, repeat – I can’t shake it.
Goes up and down and runs aground.
When all is done – I can’t take it.
Semblance of love and care depart.
It tears my heart to small pieces.
Your aim was good, your words impart
intent for true love surceases.
Observe the bull’s eye on my heart.
Copyright ©
Linda Alice Fowler
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