Scabbed Heart

Stand there for me

And do not move.

Let me reach out

With these hands

And hold onto yours.

A heart is meant to love

And that’s where it always turns.

Even as a mess of flesh-

Wounded,

Bleeding,

Thumping,

In these little hands.

It beats to love

And pains ripped seams-

But still moves

Dripped in agony.

Stand there for me

And do not move.

Let me reach out

With my scabbed heart

And hold onto yours

In kindness, in comfort,

With love.