(and even then, rarely cleanly.
rather, into ugly scattered shards,
impossible, it seems,
to gather together).
No, hearts are torn, ripped
to shreds, fibres straining
to stay together,
screaming in pain.
Such hearts cannot be mended.
cannot be pieced back together
like precious porcelain. even time
cannot wreak miracles.
Rather, shredded hearts have to rest.
eventually fibres grow back
into sorrow-created spaces.
the scars remain.
