I am but one of many.
I am not special, nor was I ever in his deceiving eyes.
I have been used.
My emotions have been tossed in a blender and set on high.
Love does not hurt, but it creates a burning pain in my heart
I was not the only one in his eyes.
I try and try again for our love to return. Instead, I find that I have been used for lust, and neglected.
I am vulnerable, alone, and manipulated
My feelings are but a nuance in his eyes
I trusted him, I loved him, I lost him.
His hands. His comforting, loving hands. Why must they dig upon my heart and upon my soul?
My eyes pink with tears, his, dull, seldom expressing feeling.
I inflict this pain upon myself. I trusted the enemy. I handed him a map to my heart.
Love does not die. It remains alive, breathing a poisonous toxin so that I will never forget.
within the year i have loved and hurt due to an individual. my wound has recently been reopened. i am quite young and it has inspired me to write and express my feelings. this is my second poem and i am looking for feedback, possibly advice. thanks for your time.