I Am Living Of A Broken Heart

I am riddled with guilt.

I said, No more. And that should have been the end of it. 

But I fluttered here and there with quiet steps. 

I pranced around in the dead of night ever so quietly. 

But in my wake, left gaudy hand prints like the orange stains after a bag of Cheetos. 

You disappeared. You abused me. You turned me down. 

But you took me in. You held my hand. You loved me. 

I let it in and soaked it up and waded in that quiet water. 

But now I am riddled with guilt. 

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