Nothing gained...thereof (I hate that I can be so literal in poems)

I have too many stories about falling in love,
But nothing gained in what I ventured there of,
Facing the fact that I lack wisdom of heart,
Because trusting these feelings is time wasted in part.

They could call me bitter now because bitterness appeases,
The feelings I've had for all the wrong reasons.
I have grown in spirit but my heart is still faint,
And now in all reasoning I sing and write and paint.

This life was purposeful and full of intention,
But over thinking myself is a chore into oblivion...for most.
Some loves tear apart these pieces of gold
And I walk like an Egyptian with less than before.

So honestly...
Honestly speaking,

I don't really know what to do about these scars.
These keloids of relationships that have now left some marks.
Stains on my soul
Bathing in possibility that one or two years will go by and I will feel brand new.
I want to be able to love without fear and look with promise and feel safe in you.
I learned to love from the best example in practice,
The covenant we have broken but the love/rain still falls on the just and unjusted.
Sanctified by commitment to teach the world new love
Nothing gained in that which I ventured there of.

So we can stop fighting, you won
But I broke the mold on possibility.

The guitar I play,
The lies they say,
The acceptance of wrong intentions
And walking away.

The kisses I bring
The melodies I sing
The kitchen I slaved over
Walking away with that sting.

The strain in my voice
The reputation destroyed
My strength is a marker
For conquest and ambitions void.

No feelings
No dealings
No wasting my time
No reason to continue living a lie.

The cop, the bassist, the singer and his friends,
The banker, the rasta, the teacher make amends,
The Muslim, the Christian, the Athiest all see
The beauty, the judge, the fire in me.

They call me crazy, psycho and head case.
They venture there not seeing how vulnerable I am but would rather spit in my face.
They get there and see how open I love
But agree that nothing is gained from those ventures there of.
And then called me selfish because I broke the mold on possibility.
I broke it to the point that things seem to straighten out after me.
It all becomes clear what you want and don't want,
Finding versions of me with weaker and calmer fronts.

Its so funny.

I don't think its harder to love someone like me.
And now after all this time.
Don't say hi to me.
Don't try to be pleasant.
Don't wish me Merry Christmas.
Let me disappear.

Because that is all I want to do... without you.

You broke my heart.