Usually, when these kind of poems are written, it is the other way around — the writer is the one expressing their sorrow over their broken heart. This time, the roles are reversed. I, the writer, am left tormented with the fact that I broke someone else’s heart, and it is something that will stick with me for eternity.
I hurt your heart
can’t you feel it?
The guilt spread thick
over my bones
I consume my agony
and listen for every
distressing memory
every cold story
every sorrowful
thing
screaming to be freed
from the turmoil I have
dealt you
I hurt your heart
like you hurt mine
but I still punish myself
for your crimes
I still roam deep down in this
calamitous pit
I feel my lungs cracking
from the salt blazing
in my tears
I hurt your heart,
and I could never forgive myself
Up ahead lies an eternal path
of lost redemption
No guidance
No cleansing
Only a deafening twilight
consistently reminding me how
I hurt your heart.
