It’s broken, it’s broken, it’s broken wide open. The shape of my heart is gone
It’s beaten, it’s beaten, it’s beaten beyond recognition…hurt, broken & trod on.
Though it is bent, rent & bashed it tries to beat anyway. Still attending the body it belongs to.
The body stumbles over & picks up the pieces & puts them in place though beaten black & blue.
At home again inside my chest the painful healing starts.
The healing of hearts is a matter effort & time…less a science & more an art.
The heart hurts with each beat like lightning ricocheting in the bottle of the body.
Eventually the pain fades but never fully goes away…the heart works but the work is shoddy.
My blood remains thick & inky pumping slowly & painfully through each vein.
So I open one in front of you & read you a broken heart’s refrain.