|Sadomasochistic Glass Hearts
Author: Eirthe Rose Crystal PM
Sadomasochistic, That's the perfect word for our relationship; My poor love, So sadistic though you don't even realize it... In that, you are better off than I; I willingly submit myself to you, Unable to do otherwise, Ripping out my heart as an offering.Rated: Fiction T - English - Romance/Angst - Words: 420 - Reviews: 3 - Published: 02-13-06 - id: 2111952
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Empty and dead inside,
The glass heart you forged out of my old beating one -
So that my secrets would never be hidden from you -
Shatters as it crashes onto the ground before your feet...
It was broken before, you know;
Split into countless pieces when you left,
Held together only by the flimsy glue of hope and faith -
One that grew weaker with each passing day...
So don't stare so accusingly at me,
Blue eyes burning with question and hurt,
You had a part in this too;
I told you not to trust me with something so pure and fragile.
I nursed it over the months,
Desperate to keep my promise -
No matter how it broke me -
But there are only so many tears I can wash it in
Before thoughts eventually turn to blood...
The fragments would have never held;
Even when you finally return,
Giving me the signs of your love -
The only things that brought me happiness,
The only things that gave me wings -
Returning life to my long dead soul,
It only healed for a second
Before I saw the light fade.
You don't even realize the cuts you've made;
More ornaments for a spirit too tired to care,
But still bleeding too deeply to stop.
Do you see now why I hurled that shining creation from its case?
False hope does more to kill than to heal.
You came back,
But you can't save me -
You can't even see me beyond the veils of scars;
Yet you continue to tear me apart,
As if returning to merely place the finishing touches on your masterpiece:
The epitome of the art of mutilation.
I see this,
Want desperately to believe this,
But the hollow cavity in my chest continues its bittersweet betrayal;
Drawn by strings,
The puppet strings of my once filled heart,
I go to you,
Leaning into your sweet embrace,
Drowning in your warmth,
Being slowly resuscitated by the love that never left;
And once and for all,
Proving I'm addicted to being hurt -
For this is the way the cycle goes:
You save me just to plunge me into torture,
Healing me each time but letting me draw nearer and nearer to death before you do;
So tell me how this will one day end -
Will you grow tired of playing and kill me at last,
Or will you realize the power you wield over me
And let your heart mourn at last?