Broken Pieces

June 22, 2010
By Anonymous

My heart…not whole, but one.
Different bits going this way and that
Falling and rising
Into one rhythm, a heartbeat.
Inspired by him
His eyes, every time he blinks.
His voice, every time it speaks.
His heart, every time it beats.
My heart. In rhythm with his.
Can he hear the melody?
Can he hear when it stops?
The tempo increasing rapidly,
like a hummingbird’s wings,
when I look into his eyes.
The tempo slowing to a funeral march,
As he walks away from me.
My heart has no conductor, it can’t keep the beat.
It tries so hard, and breaks,
Broken pieces.
They change color and separate,
Chaos, craziness, and confusion.
Then I can hear it.
The melody, quiet and at a distance, but there.
I can hear his voice, see his eyes,
Hear his heart.
Slowly, mine follows in rhythm.
Not in a whole, but in one.
Like a million different drummers
Following one beat.
So many pieces, broken, but one.
Broken pieces.

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