Perhaps the heart
was not made to break,
but to stretch
beyond what’s believed
it could survive.
The cracks
are not proof
of weakness.
They are evidence
that love
once lived there.
Each sorrow
carves deeper.
Some wounds
become scars,
not to remind us
of what we lost,
but to honor
what we carried,
all we endured,
and life
still beating
beneath it.
The heart
was never meant
to stay unbroken.
With every fracture
it grows wider,
holding both grief
and joy,
until one day
it finds the courage
to love again.
Enjoyed this, and be kind to your heart.
You’re sweet. Thank You, Atticus. 🙂
Chère G.,
Rated for everyone it says in very small lettering.
I hope Fia finds ways to enlarge it.
and that young people queu at the gates of StarsRite and read it. And take it to heart.
Yes, taking it to heart, cracks and all.
What a lovely write this is. So hopeful.
And the artwork is the icing on the cake.
I love it to bits, needless to say!
Warm regards, Gus