The Match that Burnt the Bridge

a poem about finding true love

The Match that Burnt the Bridge- by Mark Weisbruch

Will I ever find true love?
If our hearts were like blank pieces of paper,
And every time someone dumped on it,
We got a new piece,
Than yes, I think I would.
But the reality of life is that we,
Humanity,
Only each have one page.
We only have so much space
For the bloodsuckers to put their profanities.
They have decorated my heart
Like a bathroom stall wall.
With gross phrases and bitter memories,
Profane pictures of hand drawn nudity.
They have stolen something from me too.
Whatever was beautiful between us,
The Mona Lisa that they painted
In the space they had has been ripped away.
And now all that I have left is the pen.
Will I ever find true love
Nor unless the one who loves me isn’t damaged.
Because I am to far gone to fix anyone.

And so I ended it.
Not because you are not perfect for me,
But rather,
Because no matter what I did,
I could not get you to care,
About me, about us, about anything.
You care about yourself
and the person in the mirror
staring back at you
And because of that we are no more.