There comes a point, Where you feel like you’ve cried so many tears that your eyes are broken They are dry, and all that comes out are heaving sobs, that yield no tears. There comes a point, Where you’ve feel like you’ve messed up the worst you could possibly mess up. There comes a point, Where you realize your heart is a fragile thing, You can read other people’s emotions so well, But your own heart is made of paper, Being torn with the slightest touch. My paper heart is shredded, Drifting with the breeze, Leaving an aching cavern, Where a human heart would be. Every time I glance your way, I can’t stay that way for too long, My heart tears into a million little pieces, Memories of everything I did wrong. And maybe, when we are older, We will look at this poem and laugh, Or maybe this is the time, Is when you realize that what we had was too good to last. And no matter what happens next, I will keep writing my songs, And you will keep being that wonderful person you are, Without me. I will keep listening to music, And putting on a smile to cover my broken heart, And you will keep laughing and joking, To cover the hurt I know I must have caused. And I’m sorry that I messed up, I’m sorry I couldn’t be the person you deserve. But my paper heart apparently, Couldn’t learn how to love, Before it was too late. Too late for you, too late for me, Too late for my paper heart, drifting on the breeze.
