A Moment For Impulsive Writing
In my eyes, you are just a long-dead spirit,
chasing after my heart like you once did before...
until you cast it into the frozen ocean where it became
glass and it cracked in a thousand places.
It took what seems to be a lifetime to retrieve it and
when I did, it needed much mending. And just as
I was beginning to think that the last crack had been
filled, you ripped it from my chest once more
and decided to call it your own. I seem to contradict
myself in saying that you are still chasing after my
heart when you have already come into possession
of it, but when I say this, I mean that you can never
control it again, for it is mine to give away. Now, Spirit,
though I wish to send you away on the same
journey that I had to endure when you cast me away, but I,
unlike you, have compassion. I am going to let you wallow in your own loss and self-pity. May you forever rot in it.
chasing after my heart like you once did before...
until you cast it into the frozen ocean where it became
glass and it cracked in a thousand places.
It took what seems to be a lifetime to retrieve it and
when I did, it needed much mending. And just as
I was beginning to think that the last crack had been
filled, you ripped it from my chest once more
and decided to call it your own. I seem to contradict
myself in saying that you are still chasing after my
heart when you have already come into possession
of it, but when I say this, I mean that you can never
control it again, for it is mine to give away. Now, Spirit,
though I wish to send you away on the same
journey that I had to endure when you cast me away, but I,
unlike you, have compassion. I am going to let you wallow in your own loss and self-pity. May you forever rot in it.