Jen H. Poet Free verse

Patchwork

If the doctors ever have to open me up
They'd be surprised to find
That my heart looks more like patchwork
You can hardly see it's original red glow
Just the faintest signs that it's a real heart
Because covering it's true self
Are the bandages 
Covering the wounds
Caused by all of them
There is a broken heart
But it's nothing compared to what I have
A heart that's been ripped
And torn to shreds
As if it were nothing but a pair of faded blue jeans
Sometimes the patches overlap 
Where one came back, and then struck again
You can see the stitches
Big and sloppy 
Each one more painful then the next
The patches are for them
And when the doctors see them
They'll let me lie there
Because it's better to die peacefully
Then to suffer another patch...

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John Loving Iii March 19, 2009 at 3:45 PM if i was your doctor; i would take out my needle and sew you a stronger heart. secure all the patches and kiss the only showing part. then put you back together and wait for you to wake tell you happy birthday and offer you some cake. because tomarrow there is always a piece of cake waiting some where, some thrill some joy some poem to read or write. because weather you know it or not your poems are patches on everybodys heart. love john

Lena Townsend March 16, 2009 at 6:43 PM So sad, my hearts breaking just from reading. I love the way you write from your deepest soul. Patchwork... I have never thought of it that way but indeed that is the way it seems to be when we continue to mend those old wounds and move on. Writing really is great therapy and so is reading your work. Smiles from Lolita