Soft Hearts Bruise Black Instead of Blue

I've never been one to burn bridges, cut contact or let go.

I've always been one to forgive and forgive and forgive

I've always been one to bend, so far that I almost break

And as my heart splinters, they collect the gold mine that is my love

Because my heart is soft and I pour love into everyone and everything

So much so that sometimes, even if it shouldn't, it spills onto those that have trampled my heavy heart.

Heavy from having loved and lost so many times over

Having loved

and not been loved back

Not been loved back the way I needed to be loved

Or not been loved back... At all.

And I hold my splintered heart and see its bruises

Are black instead of blue.