A Monologue for Love
A monologue of a broken heart. by ~Sazroy, Apr 23, 2006, 6:36:33 AM
Literature / Prose / Non-Fiction / Biography & Memoir
What becomes of the broken hearted? Nothing. You think you know love -- then that love turns out to be an egotistical self-involved bastard who's no braver than the house mouse living in your walls waiting 'til you least expect it.
I've made mistakes before. But nothing compares to the ones made with him. The ones made in his arms, his unloving false arms' embrace that somehow once made me feel warm and made heart be tender. And in that false embrace I made mistakes under false illusions. Illusions that this.. boy, this child, could love me and make me feel like a woman! A woman I am not, I am but a child, a girl who has been broken by the same boy too many times and more. I tried to end it once, twice, and ended it be on the fifth. But this was all too little too late, as he had touched me and I him.
And is it so much to ask that I be loved again? It must have been for once another man loved me -- A man this time. Not a child, a boy. A man. And this man I turned down. I gave him false reason. For the real reason was that I did wish to be with this man -- but I was too afraid. The fear growing inside of me, a seed planted by a boy. And in the heat of the moment I fell for that man only to wake the morrow to tell him it cannot be.
Months later now, I thought I had convinced myself of this false reason. But in a moment of peace, no distractions to cloud my judgment, my heart caught up to my head and told me of the real reason. And now I am dead. The seed has stopped growing. But its venomous flower has already bloomed and done its damage.
I am but one of many broken hearted souls with many mistakes done and many more to proceed, to follow. And I ask of you now -- What should a girl do? When she no longer welcomes love -- But instead wishes it she had never known?
Welcome to my monologue.
Now let may you be haunted by it
Literature / Prose / Non-Fiction / Biography & Memoir
What becomes of the broken hearted? Nothing. You think you know love -- then that love turns out to be an egotistical self-involved bastard who's no braver than the house mouse living in your walls waiting 'til you least expect it.
I've made mistakes before. But nothing compares to the ones made with him. The ones made in his arms, his unloving false arms' embrace that somehow once made me feel warm and made heart be tender. And in that false embrace I made mistakes under false illusions. Illusions that this.. boy, this child, could love me and make me feel like a woman! A woman I am not, I am but a child, a girl who has been broken by the same boy too many times and more. I tried to end it once, twice, and ended it be on the fifth. But this was all too little too late, as he had touched me and I him.
And is it so much to ask that I be loved again? It must have been for once another man loved me -- A man this time. Not a child, a boy. A man. And this man I turned down. I gave him false reason. For the real reason was that I did wish to be with this man -- but I was too afraid. The fear growing inside of me, a seed planted by a boy. And in the heat of the moment I fell for that man only to wake the morrow to tell him it cannot be.
Months later now, I thought I had convinced myself of this false reason. But in a moment of peace, no distractions to cloud my judgment, my heart caught up to my head and told me of the real reason. And now I am dead. The seed has stopped growing. But its venomous flower has already bloomed and done its damage.
I am but one of many broken hearted souls with many mistakes done and many more to proceed, to follow. And I ask of you now -- What should a girl do? When she no longer welcomes love -- But instead wishes it she had never known?
Welcome to my monologue.
Now let may you be haunted by it