My heart is not a toy, despite what others may tell you.
You can't just play with it, and then when you get bored just put it away and act like it was nothing. You can't just use it for your own fun, but grow tired of it and think that it's okay to just put it back where you found it.
Cause you'll leave fingerprints at the very least. You might damage it a little. Hell, you might just break the whole thing.
Brokenness takes time to mend. Lots and lots of time. And I don't have that to waste on you. And even fingerprints take time to wash away, to clean off, to polish. So, no, my heart is not your toy.
My heart is not your object of entertainment. My heart is my soul, to be cherished and loved.
My heart is a breakable china, where one little scratch can send fractures and cracks throughout the whole delicate piece.
Take good care of my heart when I give it to you, and I'll do the same with yours.
I am completely in love with this post. I just found your page but I feel the exact same way sometimes. I'd love if you checked out my blog too! I just started following yours, it's great!
ReplyDeletethank you, i definitely will check yours out :)
ReplyDeleteI like the pic of the heart! so cute!
ReplyDeleteWonderful words! It is so well put. I have read some of your other posts and I enjoy your writings!
ReplyDeleteThis is a lovely poem. I completely agree with you.
ReplyDeleteRambles with Reese