Broken hearts don't exist...

Once, I believed that hearts could break,
but, now, I know this isn't true.
I'd be dead many times over...
the pain from those I've loved and...you.

I can't say my heart is broken,
but I know my pride has been gored.
I knew what you'd do, and I just
didn't care.  Your faults were ignored...

And I've only myself to blame.

I just happened to fall in love
with my friend, with my muse, with you.
It's over...didn't have to love...

No, I didn't have to love you.

I should be thrilled, should be relieved...
but the tears gather in my eyes
as I write these words.  And my heart...
how it quakes...and that small flame dies.

Perhaps, the heart can break again...
I never loved you deep enough!
I don't believe it to be true.
It's my broken pride!  Nothing much...

Why does it sting?  Why does it hurt?
Why do I feel sick, tired, and sore?
Why did I try to end the pain?
Why does it matter anymore?

I'm stupid, that's all.  I shouldn't
have fell for another like him,
one I can look at, but never
touch.  You weren't real either. Like him...

Like my secret heart...that dead weight
of my past...somehow helping me
to move on.  The fire lasted as
long as I figured...it was brief.

You were brief.  At least, I can breathe.

Thanks for the fire, my friend, my muse.