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My Patchwork Heart

Sitting at home with a needle and thread,
trying to patch up the holes in my heart from when you left.
Working on it alone, no more contributions from you,
no directions to follow, there is no manual to flip through.
So, with this needle, as sharp as the devil's tongue,
I start my first patch, to cover what you have done.
The walls are thin and do not offer much support,
never have I ever had so much work ahead of me before.
I cannot tear down what was there and start back over,
your love was structural, without it my heart is unlikely to recover.
Never to be the same, it will now be marked as refurbished,
rebuilt, remanufactured, looks the same, but with less purpose.
Look close enough, an my hearts serial number you will see,
it is the original part number, ending with the designation CLG.
If you check it closer, additional details come to light,
your touch left fingerprints that cannot be wiped from sight.
The task in front of me is intimidating and formidable,
but if I take it slowly, hopefully the repairs are possible.
Telling myself that it isn't my fault,
I was ready and willing to do anything, yet she was not.
This is bewildering, and causes me great distress,
especially thinking about the last weekend together before she left.
We held each other close, and promised to always be there,
blissful moment gained from you to help with my repair.
Conversations that assured me the love for me is still there,
even though you decided not to stay with me here.
So, with a few patches down, but many more left to sew,
I work on the thing I can repair, at least the ones that I know.
Unfortunately, my thread is now fraying, it may not hold together.
This delicate patchwork heart of mine, will not last forever.

Original Work by: Shawn A.

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My Patchwork Heart