No place for a man
In this, the landscape of a woman's mind
She bares her heart and soul
to the corrupting hands of men
and prays that this time - unlike those other times -
he will be kind, his touch; gentle,
he will not tear this heart in two.
Forsaken, she wanders this barren land,
by the ghosts of those past lovers who broke her heart,
the tattered pieces of her soul
wounded and mourning.
You cannot break something that is already broken
- this heart is not whole -
and my manic is dancing around the fires of my mind;
my brain is screaming inside my head
but thought has no reason in matters of the heart
and so I fall.