Broken Hearts

Another broken heart.
What have I done?
Yet another person scarred
Wounded.
Forever damaged.
By me.

I don’t understand.
How could I have done that.
I never meant to hurt him.
I really do care,
Just not enough,
I guess.

What is this elusive thing
People call love?

I hear it whispered, but it’s beyond me.

I get feelings sure.
I hope people are happy,
I don’t want to hurt them.
But I always do.

Because they love
I just care.

I can give my life for someone,
But not to someone.

Such a funny distinction.

When can I love,
And not just be loved?

Why must I collect broken hearts?

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