Clouds

You tore my heart out,
And that’s ok,
I wasn’t using it anyway,
The holes you bored,
Have closed,
Now they murmur a sigh,
Maybe of relief,
Maybe of the freeing reconciliation leaves:
Like a cold brew during the summer tunes,
Or dust that blows against sleeping dunes,
Out of disappointment beauty blooms,
And you gave me more than I could ever chew,
I grew too use to your taste;
Forgiven my taste buds for their apparent lack of loyalty,
With fingers I rubbed you away;
Hands sprinkled with graphite and sweat,
And balled you up like a school house paper filled with regrets,
I let you soar on wings of air,
Rising higher and higher like a ballon on a birthday’s afternoon,
Freeing helium to find its way home;
Letting the clouds have their way with you.