The end of a story.

When I gave this precious heart,
Day by day, the closer she experienced my center.
Affix I became to her as we grew.
I was very much present and in the moments.

I honored her.
I repented.
I pursued her.
I desired her.
I poured out.

Things were serene.
My thoughts were hers.
Rejected at times,
But nevertheless I'm still hers.
My lips were hers.
I cared considerably.

A day it was when soberness I became.
This day I came to play,
In return I was burned.
And twas painful.
Again and again I chose to play,
Hoping a difference,
Yet what I once enjoyed,
Now became blind to the fragility
of my dear heart.

Another day I went to pray.
Seeking to know my own heart,
and wanting to know His.
The word came to an end.
Disappointment filled me,
yet hope was still great.

No longer was I to give my heart.
I surgically removed a part of me.
I wept inside and I said goodbye.
My heart knows a deeper sting.

Openness hurts.
But today I stand more than I was.
My case rests on Him.
For tomorrow brings new hope.
My precious center restored.
Still this desire exists.
This cultivated heart shall belong to..?