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poetry

Lost Things

I lost my heart

Can you help me find it please?

It fell into my lap

And rolled down my knees

Bruising itself on the cold, hard ground

Still refusing to make a sound

I think your sneaker crushed it along the way

I almost lost my courage when I had to say,

“I don’t want this today”

This wasn’t the first thing to go

First my knowledge because I know

I shouldn’t be close to you

Yet it was still me you drew in

I never win

This game is akin

 To torture

My mind was scorched

“Her head was probably out of place”

Then I lost the smile on my face

As pills and medicines took up the space

On my bathroom shelf

Next to the girl who knew herself

Knew

I lost my dignity and my pride

I shrunk back and tried to hide

Lied and lied to those who cared

Told them I wasn’t broken but teared

Easily fixed with a piece of tape

Yet being broken wasn’t something I could escape

Especially when it was you creating the wall

I feel small

And can’t breathe at all

Maybe my breath was the last thing to stall

Or maybe it was my heart

Held in your hands

Until you crushed it

Into a million strands

Yet I still search for its gleaming light

Hoping that what I want is right

For me

Please see

I can’t be this anymore

I lost myself

Will you find her please?

She’s got her head on your knees

Begging for forgiveness to an invisible wrong

Just let her move along

***

The heart is a delicate and fickle thing. It has given me so much grief, yet I wouldn’t trade it for a billion others because of the passion it still holds for life. For a period of almost eight months, I found myself enamored with someone who didn’t have the capability of returning such sentiments. I recently moved on, yet I still keep a collection of poems that portray my feelings through that troubling time. Slowly, as time goes on and heals what never begun, I will send them out into the world, similar to how I threw my heart out into the open to see what would happen. Never mistake infatuation and an overactive imagination for love, my friends. It is the downfall of the romantic and the poison of the innocent.