Tuesday, January 13, 2015

Really Heart Matters

She was five years old when I told her that her world was breaking. Her mother and father were caught within an argument without an ending. 

So I was moving out. And she was crying like I'd never seen her cry before. The world her parents built for her is being broken by her parents.

It's twenty-eight years later and I know just what I'm not and what I am and even know that knowing is a matter of imagination. 

It doesn't matter, though. Of all the places in the world that I've been driven to, that's the only one I wish I never visited.

Because I know I broke my daughter's heart that day. Although in time, of course, she mended. 

For hearts are not a matter of this world and can't be really broken. That's why it hurts so much when breaking one.

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