Mending a dry heart

With my hands I sew the tears in my heart
That have been left by you and others
One by one I mend them
Cleansing the wound, releasing infection
Self-love the medication
The arid desert plains of my eyes
Have no quenching liquid left
I have cried rivers for the illusion of love
When it was ripped from me
Now I tenderly repair that which was done
With love,
With love,
And with more of my love.

Debbie Gravett © 2017.02.26

via Daily Prompt: Arid

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