Love Scorned
Embittered heart
pricked full of tiny holes
where love seeps out,
Left empty, this
precious vessel
turns cold
and barren.
Scornful winds rush
through this desolate space,
once cherished,
now only animosity
waters this place.
A trickle never
could nourish
a potter’s field.
The Cosmic Poet 
“…pricked full of tiny holes / where love seeps out.”
A startlingly accurate image.
Harsh winds indeed, Jennifer!
I once lived in that field, neighbor…
hugs
e
Is it the heart that scorns or the scorned heart that mourns?
A think a little of both:)