I Gave My Heart

Here is another of my poems, it mentions aspects of BDSM briefly a few times, but there is nothing explicit in the poem itself. This poem was written in a free form style, I generally don't do free form poetry often, but that style fits this piece perfectly.

If you're not into BDSM, simply disregard those little bits and read it as it is, a description of a relationship that went wrong and then failed.

Sadly, I had bad luck with the relationship after the one described here, for the exact same reasons, with the exact same result.

Those two relationships and interactions with people I knew here in Toronto led to my being alcohol free since mid-April of 2006.

Just read this quickly, and the memories of that time still hurt a fair bit, even though it's been 11.5 years since that relationship ended.


I Gave My Heart

I gave my heart
to another;
I thought
that she would cherish it,
would hold it,
with love and tenderness.

At first,
everything was beautiful;
love was in the air,
we were together.

Then alcohol
slipped in through
an open door;
not a little, here and there,
but bottles,
which I found emptied
of their contents,
lying on floor or table,
of what I felt.

I tried to help;
she made promises
to me
that she said she would keep.

Then the next binge
came along
and her promises
fell by the wayside;
the alcohol
was more important
to her
than my love for her.

Her lies
broke my heart,
cracked the beauty
of my love for her,
sullied it,
and made it
appear unworthy.

I gave my heart
into her care;
she took it
and then threw it away.

Since then,
she has confused me
'most every day:
she calls me on the phone,
warm and tender,
asks me to visit her;
when I arrive,
she is cold and distant,
she tells me I must leave.

she tells me also
that, even though
we are not
she would consider
a relationship
as dominant and submssive.

I am afraid
I do not know
if I can be safe
with her;
the alcohol
has come between us,
so I just listen
and respond
as passively
as it is possible
for me to do:
I do not wish
to give her false hope
that there will be
a lifestyle relationship,
as domme and sub,
between us.

Will I play with her?
I know not
at this time;
I must
decide soon, though,
for I will be
a play party tonight,
she will be there.

I gave my heart to her:
she threw it back at me!

I gave my heart;
now it is torn and tarnished,
lying broken before me.

I gave my heart
and yet
it still remains,
it is still mine.

I am
picking up the pieces,
finding my way
back to a semblance
of wholeness.

I gave my heart.

Tiffani Pontchartrain
© October 26, 2005

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