Pocket Heart

I had a heart in my pocket, took it out and tore it apart.

It wasn't mine, but perhaps it should have been.

I had traded hearts with the one I once loved.

They took out mine and held it tenderly.

Their tears, they drip like acid, searing my heart.

They pull it closer and hold it.

An empty look of bewilderment in their eyes.

A final kiss, but not willing to say goodbye.

I have no right to get it back.

A heartless burden I deserve to bear.