Heartsmash

If my heart
were made of glass,
it would have smashed into a thousand pieces.
Tiny fragments of a life
that could never be put back together.

If my heart
were made of string,
tt would be tied up in a knot
so tight and so complicated
it could never break free
until it was cut apart.

If my heart
were made of paper,
it would be scrunched
into a ball of pain
so that however much you smoothed it,
the crease would still remain.

But instead
my heart is made
from flesh and muscle,
ever growing, ever repairing.

An although you left me
and tore my heart in two.
it has made itself whole again.
It goes on beating,
and I go on living.