Affairs of Heart
She captivated you with primal lust
and wrapped her tendrils tightly ‘round your heart.
She feigns a smile that you have learned to trust,
seducing you and tearing us apart.
She rests within the plasma stream of life
and dwells within the essence of your soul.
She’s severed us as if by surgeon’s knife
and twisted it until she took control.
I gave myself; much more than you deserve,
but learned to use my claws just like a cat.
I tore away thus severing the nerve.
I never thought your heart was shaped like that.
There is no cure for this malignant sore,
I turn my head and leave you with your whore.
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Comments about this poem (Affairs of Heart by Amera Andersen )
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
(27 October 1914 – 9 November 1953)
(13 September 1916 – 23 November 1990)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
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