little things

You offer your hand out with such a kind smile. It’s hard not to trust you immediately. My Heart’s not something calloused; it’s easy to break and scar, so I hand it over tentatively.

You hold it so delicately that I know I made the right choice. But you don’t give enough nourishment for it to fully flourish, and that’s okay. I sit; I wait, and look up every time you give a smile my way. But it’s not for me. Not anymore.

You hold my Heart thinking it’ll help me; but you don’t see it for what it is. You think it’s friendship I’m offering, and you look at Her instead of me.

You say She’s ‘The One’, and my Heart lays dormant inside your pocket. It still pulses so desperately, wishing and hoping. Waiting for the day when you’ll hold it so lovingly again.

You’re happy, you smile at Her. Mine is bitter and worn, but I’m trying to be supportive. It hurts too much to look, when You becomes Two.

She likes you. You like Her. You say it borders on love, and my Heart begins to wilt from the lack of sustenance.

But, I still cling to the little things. Hoping, that one day, you’ll look at me once more - the way you used to - and smile.

It’s long since been buried under years of dust and lint; my heart, for which you’ve kept for so long, continues to wait.