A mystery. A pain of heartbreak
My heart has been shredded, torn, abandoned
How do I give my heart back to myself?
So many telling me who my heart is, and what it should do and feel
But my heart is broken.
I don’t know how to give back a broken heart.
In tiny shattered pieces…what do I do with it?
Paste it back, glue it, staple it?
It will never be the same.
I am like a vampire that stalks the night
I look and look to fill the emptiness my heart aches to be fill.
But it is so broken it can’t receive.
People say, “Look at the moonlight”.
I say, “So what? That does not heal my broken heart”.
Flesh and bones and blood and tears and
Hands holding each other in desperation
Ready to jump off a mountain
That will heal my broken heart.
I fall and fall, catch, reach out to my heart
There I am the small child, she is handing it to me
But I can’t receive it.
I can’t!
She doesn’t know what to do, she is relying on me
To receive this heart. It’s pounding and pounding
Waiting, and waiting.
How do I do this?
I can’t feel love for myself
I’m so hard on myself…so controlling and protective.
I don’t want anyone but my little girl and to heal my heart.
I hate the advice and the sermons and the “we are all one in unity with”.
I don’t feel it.
My heart wants something simple.
Like my daughter said tonight, “I am so tired I need someone to just kiss and hug me”.
That is giving my heart back…to kiss and hug my daughter…







