He Stole My Heart

I had a heart.
A heart to cherish.
Used it only too wise on love.
Many times on family.

Then he took it!
Tore it from my soul.
Threw it on the ground,
and stomped on it!

But he don’t care.
it was his choice.
and he took it.
he don’t care!

I no longer have one to cherish.
To call my own.
there is no such thing as true love.
I stopped believing in that when he stole my heart.

But he didn’t want it to keep.
He only wanted to ruin it!
so he did.
He stole my heart.

He made me capture him in mine.
then ripped it out.
stomped and spit on it.
put blood all over it.

Then put it back.
He gave it to me again.
Not whole I’ll admit,
but back in the soul.

Captured him in it again.
Then he tore it out!
Stomped and spit on it.
But no blood came upon.

Blood only came running, flowing from my arm.
Cries were not made.
And laughs came upon.
Giving up was soon a founded.

He tried to get me to capture him again.
But there was no blood left in the heart.
Only in the soul.
He stole my heart.

And as blood flows from my arm onto the floor,
not a soul knows.
I laugh as I did deeply into my skin.
Scars appear without fear.

For I had no heart,
so it didn’t harm the soul.