My joy is made of thread
Wrapped around my heart.
Your hands once held my joy,
But now they slip
And tug at the strings.
You pull away my joy
String by
String
One
At
A
Time…
Until
My heart is fully exposed
Easier to read than a picture book
Everyone sees my tears
Everyone hears my cries
But even you don’t share my pain.
My heart beats slowly, resting
In your palms
It grows cold, waiting
For you to replace
The threads of joy.
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