Heart Strings

Heart Strings

I erased the sight of you from my mind, the gentle sound of your voice from my ears,

The bashful smile you left on my face, and the tears you caused to stain my cheeks.

This was an unhealthy relationship.

The bruises faded and the jagged wounds healed to scars.

But one thing remained;

I didn’t have the strength to remove the thin white string you had tightly wrapped around my heart,

Tied in a near little bow,

That you had looped around your finger.

If you tugged me left and I was dragged left, and if you pulled it right, I went right,

And if you yanked on that frail piece of string hard enough, pain pulsated through my veins.

And as you jerked that delicate little string in your direction,

I dragged my feet towards you, clenching my chest in agony,

From the serrated pain of the string digging into my heart.

However, you had a smile that said this was okay.

You reached out and took my right hand, so gently,

And I thought maybe, just maybe, you’d stop tugging on my heart.

But before you took my other hand,

You squinted, looked down,

And told me to drop the scissors.

I glanced down at my left hand.

I looked in the eyes of my suffering reflection in the polished blades,

And ran my fingers across the smooth, cold metal

                                                                                         I took the scissors and stabbed you in the heart.