You won’t hear when I go, asking for a bottle but I have already seen the end of every bottle, and my heart of an angel is made of stone, where the cowboy whistle blows, leaving me to track my own trails, where the dirt was rinsed off my boots where the road less traveled closed and then the shame of me starting to grow and what a shame, what a shame, is what I said, when looking back to all of my exes and then the one I left behind in the center of the county line and I went off into an exit and saying goodbye over text message where he ran away and said baby you were all I meant, but I had to wish you away, and that was saying goodbye, and I hope that was okay, because staring back into your hazel eyes caused me to scar and look away from where you are and what a shame, that would have been to take you back and hurt you one more time again, but I only wanted to love you again, even if that meant you would hurt me again, what a shame, what a shame, that we hurt the ones we love, what a shame, what a shame, that was the end of the game that was played, and I never once started the blame, I only called a truce, which was our little secret undercover where no one else knew of the intentions that started only to wipe the slate clean and called it off and call it a day because the last thing I need is to let life carry me with the wind instead of just seeing where it blows
But this heart of stone was never an angel nor did i ever claim to be one I only ever loved the pool before it was filled with the roses blood and then I had to answer the questions that I never wanted to relieve again but the truth came up through the surface and the game was over and now we had to pick who was going to be eliminated and I know the game was a set and match of tic-tac-toe but that never stopped my feelings of you from being wiped from my boots and into the sand, where I could drive on that same road and hear you out and the honking of your horn but I would just keep driving because the last thing I want to do is live the same shame twice
I would much rather handle my tears that I cried of you in silence, even though I said I never wanted to cry because that would mean I was wasting my tears on you and the glass was broken because I let it happen and once the roses were able to bloom again I remembered all of the cries I never said but I spoke about in my journal and in my stories even though I created a persona that allowed me to write them anonymously and that was the medicine I needed to make these words talk again and no longer have to keep a code of silence and feel like I was backed into a corner saying, what a shame, what a shame, this love of us never worked.
You won’t hear me when
I go because you left me
broken and heart of stone.
How we roll is out of our control
If I count how many times I wanted to lest it
I would needed another pen to make my guest list
because there was so many times I got lost in all of the pain
where my heart you rolled off like dice even though it was a fragile
heart made with a tattoo of glass and if you looked through all of this
transparency you would see eye to eye with me but you never had the pleasure
of getting into my composure even though I left all of that when I was falling for you
but you stated the questions like you were giving me an objective and I said roll the ball in your court
and maybe you could be my safety net on this trip down the aisle even though you like to play the card of denial
but don’t ever think you could break my heart again because honey you would be messing with the wrong player of this deck
because my heart is not a promise to be decked with I would much rather have someone treat with honesty and integrity instead of showing off as a side show when they left to see another down the road
just tell me directly now after you raised your glass because you had an epiphany and drank it after your mind hit the back button to reality
just tell me straight instead of trying to decide how to swerve it either left or right just talk straight to me there is no games to be played here
we are in a different time dimension not a parallel universe where your way is the globe and my way is here back on earth
no more of this game of tic-tac-toe now you are in my hands and we are pulling the cards from the deck but just so you this is my game now and you play by my rules
so, are you in or out?
Are you going to Fold or Are you going to Play?
http://lindaghill.com/2023/09/22/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-september-23-2023/
Where Stories Can Spark Their Magic 
I’m out of breath. Good job!
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