I tried fixing your heart
and you let me.
Out of kindness, I suppose.
Who knows?
But upon careful examination,
My unfavorable conclusion
Is that your heart’s not broken.
It just doesn’t beat for me.
I am a wound ball of string, but with your slightest touch,
I fall and unravel.
A single slip and I am back to untangling
the mess that you make of my heart.
Make Room for Poetry 