If you keep it, that’s fine; just take care of it.
If you decide to give it back, try to return it in some reasonable condition.
The last few people I gave my heart to didn’t treat it so good….
It came back shabby and dusty, ill-used; it had foot-prints on it and was broken in a place or three.
You never get anything back in the same condition as it was when you gave it away; do you?
Mind you; more often than not, when you give it to someone, after someone else has had it for a time, they always complain about “It was broken when I got it”
nag nag nag….
If you want it back in the same condition you gave it away, you have to be considerate, or wary, of the one who holds it.
Or, at least you’d think so.
How you affect them is how they affect your heart.
But why, do we have to constantly watch, listen, anticipate, prophesy or “feel” things about the person holding our heart?
Why can’t we just give away our heart and not worry about it, or be fretful over what will become of it?
How I long to hear these words: “Never fear, it’s in my hands now….I got this”
Why can’t I give away my heart and know, for a fact, that it’s in better hands than mine?
I don’t treat my heart very well, I must admit….
If I had my druthers, I’d give it away to every Tom, Dick or Mary….
In some cases, I have.
My heart hasn’t been in pristine condition since the “Mindy @ the prom” incident; circa 1982.
Someone asked her to dance and she said “Okay”
I could not dance with pieces of my heart all over the floor….
Why would I entrust my heart to another human?
Am I nuts!?
Humans are treacherous, sneaky, self-absorbed, loyal to “an extent” or “event”, and….so freaking human and what that, in and of itself implies.
Heavy baggage filled with lost expectations.
But, some of them are pretty good kissers, soo……..win, win.
How often do we get a really, really good smooch?
If I give you my heart, will I get it back eventually or will you keep it for your own selfish needs?
I don’t mind if you keep it for a bit, I’m not using it right now; selfish or charitably.
I think about using it, once in a blue moon but, the brain that can’t remember where my car keys are, remembers every single time I gave my heart away and the results thereof…
Years and years…over and over.
And the brain says…”Nay”
The heart, nada comprende’ Eenglaze
My heart says “Just one more chance”
My brain is a pushover….
“Okaayy, just this once….”
My heart only speaks in the tongue of fools and dreamers.
I am a fool…
I am a man with a heart; that wants to give it away and never see it on my sleeve again.
I want you to have it.
See if you can do anything with the damn thing…
It doesn’t listen to me, not for a long time.
Something about poor choices and alcohol….
You take it….
I’ve done a shit job of it…
Maybe you two will get along better.