I had my heart broken twice last year.
No, three times.
It’s true.
And if you’re reading this
(I hope you are)
Please know: I had my heart broken by you.
By the texts we never sent,
The phone calls we never made.
By everything and every way;
By the possibility that we came
together, or alone
In the same bed
At the same time,
On the ride home,
At the drop of a dime.
I’d be there,
If you let me,
And I know you know that’s true.
There are things poetry can say
That feel scary when you do.
It’s not wrong that I’m a lover
It’s not wrong you run away
or toward something or another
That you never quite could tame.
You can call this poem desperate,
A cry for something more.
Really, I think it’s accurate
To the kind of person that you were.
Or are, I guess?
I haven’t seen you in a while.
You haven’t reached out, yet.
Yes, I still think about your smile.
And the smell of your hair,
Or your teeth after they were brushed.
God, it makes me mad,
How full I was with love.
My heart was broken.
It still is.
It may never be whole.
You’re just something to miss;
I suppose that that’s love’s toll.
Author: Alix Curnow, WritingWaves, February 2026