broken promise, broken dream -- he
told me what my heart could believe.
and believe I did, despite the
signs, ready as always, to turn the
tide. I need to bide my time. to
realize that there is one (of so few!)
to keep his promise, to grant my
dream, to shield me from the sigh
that inevitably escapes in relief
as soon as he starts to speak,
"I'm sorry." once he apologizes, he
has given his only gift to me --
a slightly more bruised and battered,
but ever more walled and guarded,
heart. distrust, it seems, has claimed me.
but someday I will break free.
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