His Betrayal Is My Freedom

"It was a mistake," he pleaded quietly.
The halls were deserted; everyone was in class.
I tossed my head to the side and his hand
gently caressed my cheek as he pulled my face back,
allowing me to glimpse her hands
in the depths of my memory.

My eyes swam with rejection, they are the puddles
gathering in the gutters of my heart--
the very same thing that just
collapsed in my chest.

He seized my hand and brought it to his heart.
"It's yours, love." A laugh escaped,
bubbled to my lips like my dying breath.
That was all I could do, my voice was
useless, my mouth immobile.

With just one look from her, the keeper of
my heart released me to the heavens,
hoping that once gone, there I would remain.
But return I did, iced from the altitude, and
thawed again by the depths of where
he lay.

His eyes, once caring and deep, now
look as shallow as the grave he dug
trying to explain her to me.

Blinking back the tears I knew would
soon pour down my face, I shoved him
gently aside and walked down the corridor with
my head held high.

With a deep breath, I let my final thoughts
of the keeper of my heart float to the heavens
or sink to the depths of hell. I care not where
they went, only that they will never
cross my mind again.