you wandered your world
carrying your broken heart in your hands
feet carrying you to places
you wanted to belong.
desperately searching for home
within a woman’s arms
you’d only ever break her heart
as you tried to pile over to her
the pieces of your own.
and just like fate
your feet found their way to me
arms open wide–
heart just right for the breaking
you gave me your pieces
diligently i worked on your jagged puzzle
ignoring my bleeding hands
and your eyes that wandered
elsewhere when you grew impatient.
and inevitably, you left
looking for hope in dark places
looking for home in different arms
my hands, still bleeding
holding pieces of your heart
my eyes, looking down
noticing the fragmented remainder of my own.
you knew, full well, when you left
that your transient feet
finally found a home to wander in my head…
i think it brought you some peace.
-a. b. martin