You left me broken.

Shattered into a million pieces that will never fully fit back together again.

No matter how much glue you try to use,

I will never be the same person I once was.

I will never be strong,

Or be beautiful ever again.

I put myself in your hands,

And you watched me fall.

Love has damaged me,

and I don't know if...

                                  ...if

                                        ...if

If it is still me of whom I speak...

A Wallflower with a crack,

Hast Time not forgot?

Am I damaged?

Or Um- just

Loved a lot?

Love has damaged me and I don't know if that's a bad thing. I have been burned and betrayed in love so many times that it has made me reconsider the definition of that deceptively simple term. But in having been damaged by love, I have realized that what I may have thought of as love was not in fact that but a cheap simulacrum. And knowing this, I will know in the future when truly I have found love.

Love has damaged me, and I don't know if I should blame myself, for believing in such a dusty social development, or society itself. Love is nothing more than a mirage, a chemical reaction in our brains, the very same that frighten us with phantom ghosts and drive us to tears with whispers of those who've passed on. It's evolution, a survival trait that has long grown rusty. I know these shadows, the magical trickster called Mother Nature, and yet, despite my knowledge and woes, I choose ignorance every time. 

Love has damaged me and I don't know if I will be able to experience the simple pleasures of love again. My laugh that carried 10 different meanings in your eyes means only one to the next. Or how unknowingly you would brush your hand across my back to make sure I was there.  And how the look between us meant the world all wrapped up together making perfect harmony between the silence, and yet now it carries the sorrow and doubt between gazes of the new.  The damage is done and the simple pleasures are beyond my reach. 

     Why do we love? A love is stronger than difference, stronger than negativity, stronger than any other force on this earth. That is why love can be so dangerous: because nothing is more beautiful or more cruel. 

     If hurt, your wounds will eventually heal. Yes, there may be a scar, but that scar is the only one like it in existence. No one else experienced that feeling exactly the way you did. It is a part of you, an will forever grow as you grow. 

     Love has damaged me, but I do know; it has made me stronger than before.

Love: it has taken hostage of me. 

It tells me if I don't give in, 

it will torment and haunt me for all of eternity.

Nonetheless, my aching soul waits determinedly

for that ransom to come in at last and set me free,

But if there is anything Love has taught me,

it is that it has always been there for me.

So maybe Love isn't the enemy, 

for it is you who allowed me to believe that Love would damage me.

“Love has damaged me, and I don’t know if it matters,” I say as my words flit across the screen. I see a name, one that cares, but cares selfishly. Still I wait, still I want. For it is not the reply that matters, it’s just the fact they care.

“It’s alright if I’m running to something, and not from something. It’s different.” She looks at me with those eyes. Those sad eyes I grew up with. Eyes that are still mourning the loss of her own heart.

Eyes that I know will be mine, if I’m not careful.