Healed with Thyme

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Stilled hearts should bring relief,




The sage shouted
Stilled hearts don’t bring pain.
To still a heart is to bring the crash of not good enough and
Almost, but not quite.
I’ve stilled many hearts,
I’ve burned dreams like satin and crushed souls like ice.
None of us are alone. We’ve all been where you are.
Striking down or being stricken.
The pain is on both sides.
The lightning burns its thrower and its target.
Heaven forbid we lead someone on.
Do not, it hurts worse, it’s a dull aching pain.

The secret is the pain,



The sage cries, hoarse
The pain means the heart beats on.





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