I smashed the vase against the wall,
watching the water splatter in odd shapes
as the flowers lay dying a slow death
on the worn carpet.
They weren't for me,
Each petal bore the name of another.
You told me they were for me,
then later confessed you bought them
for someone else
before deciding to give them to me instead.
Now you wonder why I'm mad,
why I'm not patting you on the back
for your good decision.
Well, I'm fresh out of "pats on the back"...
fresh out of forgiveness, understanding and vulnerability.
That gaping wound of a heart you keep stabbing?
Watch it slowly close before your eyes,
shutting you out completely.
Try to hurt me now.


Comments: 19
Good write!
enough to tell the truth on this one.
What an ass!!!!!!! The barbs in the shape
of this poem mirror a shattered heart and
manic stabs of black and white in intense
void.
Thanks Comments for Myspace
And, for posting to my group, Anythingwriting
Poetry by Us
Watch it slowly close before your eyes,
shutting you out completely.
Try to hurt me now."
Those last few lines really speak to me. I've been in that place before in my life.
Thanks for posting in Journey Into Poetry !