A story of my first critics

I had pins and needles in my heart from an early age
but the first to ever break it,
the first to ever sharply fracture my heart
were the same to raise it from infancy,
who heard it beat in the womb.
When you said I was never loved
when you said I was never loved.
It shattered me and took the heart in pieces too.
I laid crying on a near stranger’s bed.
Which would be weeks later.
I deeply believed you. I deeply and profoundly believed
but now I find that you had jumbled the words.
I would never love
My files are so easily closed and burned.
The files that lovers sit in,
highlighted and margin notes,
are so easily tossed and burned.
If lost so quick, was it love to start?

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