My Heart Won’t Be The Last One He Breaks

Brooke Cagle

He exists
Weathered and worn
From years
Of self abuse
Inside a bottle
Yet still
He drinks more
And continues
His downward spiral
Into the depths
Of hell.

She was beautiful
In every way
But he still
Found fault
Because control
Is the name
Of the house
Where
He wants
Her to live
As she peers out
From
Behind the glass.

My paper heart
Was no match for him
Its feather weight
Was too easily drawn in
By the dancing flames
In the fireplace
Of his soul
And was too quickly
Engulfed in his blaze.

He still exists
Weathered and worn
From years
Of breaking hearts
Yet still
He breaks more
And continues
His downward spiral
Into the depths
Of hell. TC mark

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