Does the crack in your heart ache?
Did you let it safely heal,
or did you pick at the scab?
I couldn’t offer you a tissue,
or a band-aid,
without cutting my own hands.
These pale, shaky hands that strain when writing
Fingers crossed with a hopeful mind
Nails digging in my palms
Scarred flesh from all the countless times,
I have gathered up sharp, broken pieces of people
Supporting their collapsing structure as I bled
Fragments of glass hearts shattered in my eyes
Piles of broken bones creating a grave for not one,
I used to be a kind captain,
trusting the sea to guide me home
But now that I know the restlessness of waves,
and unpredictable change in the currents
I refuse to go down with the ship,
becoming a smashed seascape in the coral-
only to be remembered in National Geographic,
when they have underwater shipwreck features.
I apologize my timing was off,
and it was you who found yourself caught-
in the chaotic changing of guards around my heart
But I was exhausted and worn from being
stuck in the snowy winter with you;
I need to defrost
I need to save my own soul at sea
I need to stitch the cuts from your edges
And it’s impossible to heal the broken,
when you aren’t even whole yourself