Another batch
Of creases formed
As i refolded
My heart for the
Millionth time.
I don't remember
What it used to look like.
Before it has been
Beaten to a pulp--
Folded and unfolded
As its story was read.
Reliving every second.
Re-enacting every moment.
Re-telling every detail.
Everytime
I unfold it
For a new reader,
A new listener,
A secret wish forms:
There won't be
A need for me
To fold it close again.
No more
Additional creases
To mark another mistake.
It will just stay open.
Laid bare
And be accepted
For what it is.
Frayed.
Crumpled.
Torn.
A tattered piece
of myself.
