Hearts

I can't be trusted with hearts, 

they break in too many parts 

when I hold them in my hands. 

Oh, I hold them far too tight 

when they struggle to take flight, 

I'm afraid that they won't land. 

Or I push them to be free,

though they would stay with me, 

and they'll never understand. 

I have a history with hearts 

and all their many parts, 

and when I give mine to a man... 

I end up sitting and crying, 

my own heart breaking and dying, 

its shattered remains in my hands.

Reviews

[PoeticSorcery]

I apparently show my heart on my sleeve when it comes to girls, all the time, and I think that's why I never find love. my cards are laid on the table from the word go, no mystery means no love it seems.