fine print

I read you my fine print
and I gave you my heart.
I handed you, so trustingly,
your chopping blade of choice.
You’re leaning now
with a sharp serrated edge,
pricking me with each
shallow breath.
You’re taunting me
dangling joy on a gold chain,
just beyond the reach
of my lips
disguising your indiscretion
with sparkling words
and shiny advances.
Finally, you place my hand
from the safety of your own
back into my lonely lap.
You’ve stopped calling now
the bell is without your voice.
I don’t know what happened
and I can’t help but ask. . .
Was it too much to handle?
Was it just too much to take?
Did you ever stop to think
It was my heart that was at stake?
Was it too complicated?
Not what you expected?
Boy, every pretty face
Comes with a catch.