There will always be

stories of love,

fairy tales

to keep our hearts beating,

but hearts broken

is a different story.

There are days,

where I see the men,

whose hearts I have broken.

They visit me in sleep.

Their faces haunt my mind,

and the fangs of regret

are always sharp.

I'm sorry

for breaking

their hearts,

and the love

that I dream,

the love

that I want

would have been given,

if I opened the doors

to them.

And no excuses

will make the past fade.

Regret will wait

for me to remember,

and that door

between us

always allowed

the wrong men in.

And I'm sorry for that,

and when I think of love,

I think of them,

those men,

who would have given me

the world,

but instead,

all I gave myself

was memories

of glass shattering,

their hearts breaking,

and regret

to flow freely from my eyes.

And I am sorry

for that.

Fragments of Heart Break

by, Melissa R. Mendelson