In one part of this broken heart
Is you; all sweet and wonderful and true.
This part? Oh this part, It’s the lucky one!
As it holds you near and dear, sans fear.
This side smiles and soars and moans in pleasure.
It has known you for centuries,
And shares secret smiles with your
Mesmerising eyes and sighs at the sound
Of your enchanting voice calling me to that place.
The place we both know so well
And tried to hold on to so tightly.
Too tight it seemed, something was bound to break
And break it did and what’s left is this other part.
In this part of my broken heart
Is you; righteous, insensitive, selfish and careless.
This part? It’s barren, and cold and still breaking,
No amount of tears has numbed the aching.
As it has to hold you near and dear,
Without an ounce of truth to fathom,
Or even an excuse to pretend to believe
To keep hold on to a sliver of sanity
This part has to shut down and sleep
In the hope that time can heal
All the damage it all left behind.
A heart so broken, it can’t even decide
Whether to love you or to hate you;
All that’s left to do is tell the tale
Of the two parts of this broken heart.
To remember the who that I was,
The who that you were, the who that we were,
In the hopes that when this heart is no longer
Broken, it might remember
How to get back to where?
