Tattered Gift
I hold his heart within my palms,
It is beating so abundantly,
There are less cracks in his than mine,
I know, such a delicate thing,
Never should it have been entrusted to me,
A careless being, so clumsy with love,
Yet, here it sits, resting so perfectly within my palm,
Such a beautiful thing,
Raw, mended, complete,
I wish I could have such a thing of my own,
Offering such a tattered thing in return,
Mine is full of tears, breaks, and missing pieces,
Yet, he still holds it so tenderly, so carefully,
He will not break it further,
A fact I am aware of,
I will break both of ours once again,
Such a careless thing I am,
Selfish, yet somehow still selfless,
Perhaps another try,
Another life,
Another love
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