Love is my occupational hazard
My heart exposed on my sleeve
was ripped off,
Casually tossed about to land on a shelf
Until you decide to have another go with it
Do you not notice, it is a heart?
That the knicks and tears and vile put into it will cease its weakened beat?
But maybe the chastisement is mine
To not put my heart out there
exposed on my sleeve
To be ruined by love
By Marcie Dean