Little Wooden Box

Friends with benefits

What's the benefit

When I'm falling in love

And you're looking down from the cliff

You have me hooked

On the love you dangle

But the closer your eyes pull me in

The more that I become entangled

Strangled

Mangled

Wrapped in your rope

For love is a sickness

And your touch is how I cope

Sometimes I have hope

That you think of me the same

But if that was so

I think I'd know

Instead I'm stuck just playing games

Am I to blame?

As I construct this elaborate facade,

Hanging on your every word

Bowing down to your applause

Flawed.

Broken

My heart has rips and tears and stains,

Dried crusted tears across my cheeks

Remind me of the dormant pain,

Is this all in vain?

To wish, to hope, to let myself feel?

Scared to rip myself apart

When I've only just begun to heal -

And so

if you please

Take my heart

This small, pulsating, feeble, stitched up thing

In this little,wooden box

Which holds a little girl's lost romantic dreams

 

This poem is about: 
Me

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