You looked at the gift I placed
in your hands
and asked me
"What is that?"
And I met your gaze
as I pressed it into your hands
and waited for you
to unwrap it
A piece of my heart
crisscrossed in scars
and washed in tears
It certainly isn't
the prettiest thing
anymore
But it comes
in a box made of trust
wrapped in paper of faith
tied with a ribbon of hope
And it is given to you in love
And I hope you will accept it
in payment for
the piece of your heart
that I inadvertently
and unwittingly
took from you
--
For my friends. You worked your way into my heart through its scars and cracks left behind and helped me believe that maybe, just maybe, my judgement of people wasn't as horrible as I thought it was - and maybe I could bring myself to trust again.
My heart is and has been broken many times - yet when you helped me pick up the broken pieces and put them back together, you handed me a shard of your own heart to help me fill the gap, just as I shared a piece of my heart with you. Perhaps that is what love is.
YOU ARE READING
A Work In Progress
PoésieThis is merely a collection of poetry that I decided to start. It contains works I've completed and will be added to as the year progresses. I wanted to see if I could write a poem a week, which will be especially interesting considering my fluctuat...
