Your blood is soaking my feet
and from a distance I hear you
break your heart into pieces
large enough for you to stitch again
like you've done repeatedly before
always on the cusp,
but never enough to let go
your hands all red
your eyes tear stained
not like kids with broken toys
but like wingless birds
with dreams of flying
like map lines
rising and falling and plotting
pain with reason, signs with meaning
songs with feelings
and you pick up fragments
like carefully torn paper strips
like deep, immeasurable delicate sobbing
holding them up into the light
finding which ones that fit
only to find puzzle pieces that no longer belong together
Your every breath is a question
to things you know you have the answers to
you ache to be ripped apart
and I can only watch and sing you my lullabies
so I can fill in a few painful silent moments
with the only truths I know
you thread yourself back in painful
pin prick stitching, and the sensation
is the only life that keeps you feeling
until then I wouldn't mind this bleeding
the floor pooling, it wouldn't be deep enough
for you to drown.
breaking will only make your heart
into a sky, with stars seeping in the fine cracks
where the gaps used to be.
For you Baby J.
2.32 AM
July 3, 2014
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