The Hand and the Heart
The hand plants the seed of love in hopes of a new garden.
The heart gives way to love like a blooming rose for all to see.
The hand is a drunk man that takes the effervescent love and crushes it against his forehead like a beer can.
The hand is not aware of what it did wrong but is aware that the heart hurts.
The heart hurts a lot.
The hand beats on its chest like its going to war with itself just to scare the heart.
The heart beats faster and faster when its close to another scared soul only to stop beating all together.
The hand is placed on the chest of his love to restart the the drowned blossom of the rose that never was.
The hand plants the rose back into the garden and months go by.
The hand runs across the leaf on the rose and down the stem to assure that the rose is okay.
The heart gives way to love for all to see just like the blooming rose yet again.
The hand and the heart are the same size but do very different things.
the heart tears while the hand breaks but non the less that doe snot change my feelings about you and I cannot disprove my feelings no matter how many times I replant this seed and tear it out.
No matter how many times I resuscitate this nothing in a no outlet neighborhood.
No matter how dirty these callused hands get i cannot plant this seed again just to see the rose die.
I love you.
Whether you believe it or not I do.
But I'm not in love with you.
I can't plant this seed.
I can't take a shovel and break the earth, the foundation and hope again and again.
I can't break your soul anymore.
I can't stomp on your rose.
So while the hand destroyed the rose, the rose stayed resilient.
And now that the hand has moved away for good, the rose can finally blossom into the love that was meant to be
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