Collecting the Left Pieces of My Heart
In the quiet corners of my mind,
I wander, searching, sifting through the shadows,
Collecting the left pieces of my heart,
Fragments scattered like autumn leaves,
Each one a memory, a whisper, a sigh,
A reminder of love, loss, and the art of letting go.
I find the first piece,
A shard of laughter, bright and bold,
The way your smile lit up the room,
How it danced in the air,
A melody that played on repeat,
But now it echoes in silence,
A song I can't quite remember.
Next, I stumble upon a tear,
A glimmering drop of sorrow,
The weight of goodbyes, heavy and cold,
It clings to my fingertips,
A reminder that love is not just joy,
But a tapestry woven with threads of pain,
And I gather it gently,
For it tells a story worth telling.
Then there's the piece of hope,
A fragile sliver, still shining,
It whispers of tomorrows yet to come,
Of dreams that linger just beyond reach,
I cradle it close, for it fuels my fire,
A promise that even in the darkest nights,
The dawn will break, and I will rise.
I collect the pieces, one by one,
Each a testament to the journey I've walked,
The roads I've traveled, the hearts I've touched,
And as I gather them, I realize,
These fragments do not define me,
But rather, they shape the mosaic of my soul.
So here I stand,
With a heart that's been shattered,
Yet beautifully whole in its imperfection,
Each piece a reminder of love's resilience,
Of the strength found in vulnerability,
And I embrace them all,
For they are mine,
The left pieces of my heart,
A collection of stories,
A celebration of life,
And in this gathering, I find my truth,
That even in the brokenness,
There is beauty,
And in the collecting,
I am finally free.
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