My Heart Is Not A Game To Be Played With

My heart is not a game to be played with. It’s not a dice to roll or a number to bet on. It’s not a toy. And it’s not a joke to be laughed at. And it’s not yours to juggle.

My heart is mine. It’s not yours. It does not belong in your hands and it is not your property. So don’t act like you can toss it around like a bowling ball. Don’t act like it’s yours for taking, like it’s something that you can own. Like I’m something you can own.

Maybe for a while I gave you bits of it. I told you about my life. You told me about yours. But I never gave you all of it. I never granted you permission. I never consented for you to say your little lies. I never granted you permission to play your dirty games and do your dirty deeds.

No. This is not a game to me.

Love is not a game to me.

My heart is not a piece of paper that you can crumple. It is not wheel that you can spin. It is not a car that you can drive or something that you can make fun of. And it is not something that you can just drown yourself in. Because don’t you see? I almost let myself drown. I almost let myself go. I almost let you have it.

I almost let you have my heart.

It’s laughable now. The way my heart has the capability of trusting a stranger. The way my heart beat faster when I saw you. The way you kissed me and I felt brand new. The way my face lit up when it was next to yours.

I guess you never were who I thought you were.

But you see, my heart is strong. It is capable of big love. Because I trust. I feel. I fall. I crash. But I never stop trying over and over again. I never give up.

And you? Your heart is smaller than mine. It doesn’t hold the weight mine does. And you’re a coward for not wanting the real me. You’re a coward for not wanting to get to know mine. You’re a coward for playing games, instead of finding out my truth.

A part of me is mad at myself for believing in you. Even when my friends shook their heads with their zipped up lips. Even when my best friends told me to run. Even when my heart told me to get out now. I guess I just wanted to prove them wrong. To prove me wrong. That you were something better. That you were someone better than the rest of them.

I guess the jokes on me. You played your game well, honey. You shook that magic eight ball and it landed on me. You rolled that dice and I was the one who chose for prey. I was just a silly little toy. Just a time passer. Just someone to fill your void.

But I’m not yours anymore.

I am not yours for taking. And I never was.