Gentle Heart

By the time I learned you were unfaithful,

I died inside from the damage done.

I wasn’t even mad or disdainful.

My mind was frozen, my body numb.

It was either a cruel, vindictive joke,

or painful reality to live with.

My response to the trauma was to cope

and to blame myself for all of it.

Everything will get better in time,

or at least that is what I told myself,

along with other optimistic lies,

slowly turning into an empty shell.

Wouldn’t it be great if my lies came true?

I always believed in miracles

and that your mistakes do not define you,

until you become incorrigible.

Can everyone improve? I sure hoped so.

You can stay the path, or turn around.

Ongoing destruction is what you chose.

If I didn’t save myself, I’d drown.

Rather than life without any feelings,

I proceeded to celebrate living,

and mend from the loneliness and grieving,

and overcome numbness by forgiving.