What becomes of a broken heart
the forgiving of others
the turning away?
Where to begin my story? The ending is quite clear. The present state of affairs is wiped clean and a kinder, gentler, loving world appears. A fairy tale or truth?
If my heart were petaled, once upon a time, one petal was despair, another pain. Then to equalize my experience, a random lock of love would please my mind. This may sound reasonable. But it remains unbearable. Life becomes a game.
My petaled heart cries “He loves me. He loves me.” It can be no other way.