Heartache

Blue-black my heart bruised, 

as your bristly edged knuckles of words 

captured and molested my soul. 

Your passion was all I sought out for but not even that would shake you;

thus, when the trauma of distasteful rejection 

was not sufficient for your barbaric ways, 

walking through me like a face you had no recollection of 

was your permit to liberation. 

So here I stand before you, 

with a toothful weapon aimed to kill you with kindness. 

Though you strode off with much content, 

I crawl with a bullet of pure heartache.