misplaced hope

I broke a heart today.
Rather,
crushed it.

The tender flesh barely resisted,
as I twisted it so.
I bound it with misplaced hope
now on my hands,
the blood of a doe-eyed innocent.

It was the gentle heart
of a true
gentle
man.

What
monster
am I?

Turns out
a broken heart
is a dangerous one.

See,
since its devastation
my heart had only hoped to hope.

Then,
he came.

Though
the atrophied muscles feared over-exertion at his proposition:
Love,

I reasoned:
Is it not
at the point of failure
that strength
is borne?

But
I questioned:
How could this be real?
Be true?
When it comes to the core of life
he doesn't see it like i do.

Yet,
i found myself marking my daydreams
perchance they came true;
beginning to idolise a simple man
a lovely man.
But just that;
a man.

Where things of beauty
once brought my spirit to God,
they filled my mind of him.

I had to
re-
turn.


So
I missed the mark.
And there is collateral damage.
For me,
For him.
I inflicted wounds
with the shards of my own broken heart
as, well-meaning,
he offered to cradle it.

Ohso, forgive me.

Lord, forgive me.



© Chereese La-Vonne Ricketts 2013