I put the pieces of my heart back together again.
And it put it back where it belongs, on my sleeve, for everyone to see.
But mostly so I can see it myself.
I’m not scared if it gets a little bruised.
I’m not scared of someone who thinks they can grab it and run.
I’m not scared that I’ll lose it, or that it’ll freeze from frosty winds.
I’m not scared of someone who wants to rip it off my sleeve & chuck it to see how far they can throw.
Every time it’s been broken, I’ve come back stronger.
Every situation that made my heart feel small, actually expanded it.
Expanded my capacity to love & my capacity to love myself.
Every heartbreak made my heart bigger.
My love is never wasted.
And I don’t hold onto the ghosts of past lovers.
I let them leave, let them wander back to the lighthouse. & the angels send them on their way again.
I put my heart on my sleeve, but the weight of my love does not bog me down.
It takes conscious effort every day, sometimes every hour of the day, to keep my heart open, but that’s the only way I want to live.
It’s my design.
I’d waste my day, time and time again, sewing stars in the sky.
Looking crazy to anyone else in the daylight, just to see them sparkle when the sun sets and the moon rises again.
The twinkle in the sky reflects the light in my eyes.
And finally, I feel at home.
Nature wears her heart on her sleeve too.
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