My Battered Heart
The rose drifts to the ground,
Petals dry and wilting in the cold breeze.
A death resembling the demise of my heart
As an unraveling of feelings turns to dust.
A shoe grinds the rose petals to oblivion,
The preferred state of my battered heart.
The wind lifts the remnants of the flower
to circle around me with its dying breath.
Heartache is for me.
My heart yearns for thee.
Lies fall so easily from your lips.
They feel salty on my fingertips.
I must remain strong.
I hope I am wrong.
I need proof to trust you once more.
My heart is breaking at its core.
The salty mist soothes me.
The wind caresses me.
But I feel cold deep inside.
I need a safe place to hide.
Artist: Saint Carlito
There is no one inside.
Nothing at all to hide.
Some people are deep.
Others are asleep.
Which one of these are you?
Are you one of the few?
The ones who actually care
when your heart is about to tear.