brown eyed jesus

i saw him the other day. standing on the street. i looked into his big brown eyes and he smiled as he opened the door for me. i saw him later that day and he told me he had been thinking about me. i was in love. i gave him my heart. he said he gave me freedom. he made me want to fly. he made me think that i was beautiful. i trusted in him, i was his and he was mine.
i walked into the place i called heaven. it just didn't feel right. something was off. someone else was with my jesus in my piece of heaven.

how could someone who made me want to fly make me want to die?
the truth is that he wasn't jesus. he did bring me freedom, he didn't love me. then why did i so readily give my heart to him? why did i lift him up like he was my lord? why did i place him higher than my god?

my heart was broken on the floor, and then this so called brown eyed jesus stomped on it. and it was my fault. i give my heart away so easily to places that will stomp on it. yet i am afraid to give it to the one true Jesus, the one who will hold it in the palm of his hands ever so gentley and lovingly, the one who will heal and make my broken heart new.

why can i give my heart to the brown eyed jesus on the street corner, but not Jesus saviour and lover of my soul?