Sharp Fragments

You must

never run with a broken heart -

you might jostle the sharp

fractions into severing

an artery, and end up in a bloody mess.

Consider, then, what would happen:

massive internal bleeding,

followed swiftly by death. But

the world, my dear, will not

let you go easily.

You must

never sleep with a broken heart -

for you never know what

dreams, reflected from such fragmented

pieces, might pierce the soul.

You wake up with a start, then,

sitting up like a thunderbolt,

and you cannot tell

the sweat from the tears.

The world, my dear, will not

let you forget so easily.

You must

learn to live with a broken heart -

it will be frightening, strange,

uncomfortable and new, but all these

will fade with time

until you become accustomed to

the occasional sharp prick from

the edge of a disturbed piece,

or the throbbing pain in your

chest when you bend over,

or the rush of heat that dissipates

as quickly as it grips.

The world, my dear, will not

let you live so easily.

But all these pains, the

aches, the sting, all these

you will gradually find familiar, habitual,

comforting, even.

And then, who's to say what

you should or should not do with

your broken heart?