Unopened,
Untouched,
My heart rests in a plain wooden box,
Waiting for some stupid fool to come along,
And open that forbidden lid.
The box is clearly marked FRAGILE,
But you don’t care,
Disregarding all warnings,
Tearing off the paper,
Revieling what must be the most disappointing gift you ever received.
But you only smile,
Wiping away my tears,
Reassuring me that it’s O.K. to love again,
If I’d only try.
I’ll trust you,
(After all, I guess I have no choice)
And allow you to remove the band-aids from my heart,
Unravel the stiches,
And show me that my wounds really HAVE healed,
And it is O.K. to love again.
Now you’re smiling hugely,
And I vaguely wonder if you heard me whisper,
“Handle my heart with care.”