Memoires of a broken Hart



I fell in love with a dancing girl. The girl of my dreams dancing at a college party. It was love at first sight. At least, that’s what she always told me. I’m not sure what it was now.
We had a beautiful relationship that was akin to a storybook romance – better , at times. But somewhere along the line, something turned sour. Maybe we began to grow up, splitting down different paths. Maybe one of us evolved quicker than the other. Maybe our feelings shied. Maybe something or someone better came along. I chased her for two years. We tried and tried again to rekindle what was once so magical. But nothing stuck. It was dead. I was dead. Neither of us wanted to accept it, but it was too painful to keep trying.
So we cut ties.The girl who was once my best friend became nothing but a drunken text message, a frequent visit in my internet history, a ghost on the sidewalk outside of our favorite restaurant. It’s been three months since then. And here I sit, in a relationship with a new girl who loved me more than I ever loved my self I try to love her with everything I have.But everything I have isn’t what it used to be.i have doubts.I love in fragments. I love in sharp pieces. Pieces that, if held too tightly, slice me open, exposing the broken parts that I haven’t quite figured out how to fix yet. I love with a fraction of what I used to love with. I’m not sure if that’s because a piece of me is still trapped in the past, secretly hoping that things will resolve themselves one day.

This poem is about: 
Our world
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