Your words are but a rope
a means for you to pull me in
and you’ve done just that
again and again
and again…
Dangling me on a string
for the ugly world to see
in this simple instance
as I pretend to not be me
Your smile is but a knife
one that cuts clean through my flesh
that drains my bleeding heart
until there is nothing left
Thoughts of a Wandering Heart 
Liked the “rope” analogy. Thought you should have tried to include a “rope” reference to describe the “hurt” at the end too … perhaps the knife cuts the rope and you fall (or the like). Well written nonetheless. Thanks for the read.
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It can be interpreted in many ways I suppose, and the story could have just as many endings, but I chose this one because it’s a representation of my personal experiences. 🙂 I am glad that you enjoyed it.
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Sometimes dangling from the end of a rope is when I feel the most free. Love your poems, your writing, and your musings.
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I really appreciate the kind words, I’m thrilled that you like them. 🙂
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