Broken

Your eyes tell me stories of grief,

of heartbreaks that

come by often.

Your cells sing symphonies 

of pain,

 the music of your 

occasional breakdowns.

You love,

get hurt and

love again.

You stay, leave,

come back and stay again.

You are weak with love or

anything vaguely similar.

You hope, believe and pray.

You stay,

you stay out of habit 

You are broken.

You are broken in ways,

none could fathom.

You are lost,

so lost with no way out.