I am looking at a photo taken of me
petting an old golden retriever
who lay sprawled in the middle of a street
under the heat of the summer sun
my arm is outstretched
captured in a moment of caressing
the soft fur of his honey colored ears
warm to the touch
my hand turned in a gentle gesture
long fingers and
blue veins visible through thin skin
I have been told I have graceful hands
hands that should hold brushes
pluck at strings
hands that create
for a long time I believed
I destroyed everything I touched
studying the photo
I look down at my hands as I write
moving like tiny dancers
beginning to understand
When a heart breaks
When a heart breaks
it scatters into a thousand pieces
it scatters into a thousand pieces
in days
months
you begin to notice
months
you begin to notice
one day
walking across your room
you step on an unsightly shard
you didn't know was there
you didn't know was there
until you got cut
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© 2018-present by the author. All writing found on this blog is copyrighted material, unless otherwise referenced, of the author. Use without permission will cause incessant hiccups.