the sculptor

My heart has a thousand little cracks

from a thousand different goodbyes.

Each split a different room

filled with artifacts-

A museum of my heartbreaks.

With each gentle breeze of self love

and validation

or every storm of empowerment

and rage,

plaster starts to form

sealing my sadness,

smoothing my sorrows.

But then you,

chisel and hammer in hand,

get to work,

and become my new sculptor.