forlorn lovers, maybe

My heart is weak. I've been forced to secure beams with which structures of the stature of the colleseam were built, to reenfource the once fierce walls of my heart. Those beams now hold up the dissillusioned fears of not being wanted by the man who used to tell me he loved me. The misnomer that I, for being called something other than a woman was not of the caliber I am. Those beams have been built upon every lie and false promise that was sowed by a relationship that I poured my world into. I used to breathe for you. I am a woman who has no place for limiting love. I did not know there was a place for limits until you put them there. My heart beats plentifly. Like petals in a rose guarden, there is enough love in my heartbeats to bring a smile to each of those who stops long enough to recognize it. Its seeps difficult love, the love that once reached only knows to plateau at unconditional. There is nothing before and nothing after. It is the original feeling with its truth unequivocally stated in feeling.

Forlorn lovers. Or maybe that was just me.