It gets broken into so many pieces. Then we kneel down, look for them through the fog, gather them one by one, grab our little girl’s/little boy’s glue stick, wipe down the tears (if we can find any. I haven’t been able to) and patch them all up.
We breath a little sigh of relief, when the heart, is whole again. We’re going to be ok. We whisper to it.
We then, run our fingers faintly..on the joining lines…
We stare at the lines! Wishing we could make them all disappear. If only we could just get our heart back the way it was!!! It’s way too deformed now! It doesn’t feel the same! But …we can’t.
Does the pain make sense?! Big part of me screams ‘NO! NO! IT DOESN’T!’. I know better! I know not to give in to the lulling sweetness of pain! I’ve made my vow to always laugh! I’ve lost faith in pain, long time ago.
Get up little heart.
Get up….I’ll fix you.
I’ll kneel down. I’ll pick you up. I’ll talk to you…until you get…a little stronger.