Dearest heart,
I treasure your shattered fragments and jagged story.
For they are my puzzle pieces with which I can form my very own masterpiece.
I savor your stains of death-scented blood.
For they are my paints with which I can blend a beauty on a broken backdrop.
I caress your silent scars, open and hollow.
For they teach me how to sew a quilt with every patch of fabric a reminder of battles waged.
You are a broken mosaic with a beauty instilled in your splintered being.
But most beautiful, is the cracked, blood-stained, scarred glory you build yourself upon and rise for, when life requires your attention.
About the Creator
Rachel Steinmetz
Written expression is emotion at its peak; delve into it.
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More stories from Rachel Steinmetz and writers in Poets and other communities.
A Dart at Dusk
Seconds ago, the sullen sun set on the two of us… my exuberant furry companion and me. A fresh breeze embraces us, delivering welcome relief from the day’s oppressive heat. His typical stumbling and staggering along — apace with a sloth — has turned into trip-trapping, high-stepping, almost skipping along.
By Angie the Archivist 📚🪶about 21 hours ago in Petlife
Comments (1)
So profound