deepundergroundpoetry.com
Misjudged
I thought you knew my heart.
You certainly should have, because
I handed it over, piece by piece,
in return for crumbs from your table,
trusting they were your best offering.
"I don't want to think badly of anyone,"
I told her.
But after opening so many doors,
choosing vulnerability over and over
until I was powerless...
to then be so grossly misjudged?
It hurts.
I'm embarrassed by how much.
I really thought I was tougher than this.
The thrill of connection was worth
dancing with flames --
burns and blisters be damned.
At least the ache is familiar, I thought,
But this -- this went deeper.
And sometimes I manage to get angry,
but mostly I'm just
sad and broken.
"So, you'd rather think badly of yourself?" she replied,
and the question still has me speechless.
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