Garden of Lovers

I am someone who falls in love easily- unfortunately this afflication has a mirrored effect- for just as easily I am able to climb out of it. I am sorry, to the trail of broken hearts, that I have left behind. I picture it like this, walking through a garden of lovers and picking a flower from each patch of persons, all different in shape, smell, and liking. With each I have spent precious times with, with each I would never like to forget, with each I drop a tear for I regret not being able to love for long. I am sorry for not being delicate with your hearts, for the slow rotting of the broken flowers falling from my hands. I am sorry to my own heart, for the torture of breaking ways with those whose roots had become entangled in yours, sorry for their new fences to keep you out. I am most sorry for the inability to explain the unintentions and yet the truth of the love that was shared. And yet, through the garden I continue.