The person who held and broke my heart
gathered up the shards and put them in a jar.
They said they caught the light just right.
They said they wanted to keep them to show the rest.
"They were so beautiful," they said.
"Look what I turned them into," they said.
"We're just alike," they said.
"Broken shards of people that didn't know how to love the right way."
I was broken when they found me.
Lost in the sea of guilt and regret.
Cracks and fissures made me unrecognizable.
But when they found me, their cracked china hands held me in just the right way.
The curve of their palm masked the minuscule flecks of porcelain that embedded themselves under my skin.
Under their ministrations, I healed over the shards.
I didn't realize they were there until the same cracked china hands plunged into my long-healed chest, grasping and pulling at my red sea glass heart.
I watched as they gently dropped it.
It looked a lot like a throw at the time.
I sat, feeling the porcelain shards in my cheeks ache as they swept up what was left of me and put it in a jar.
"This is where you'll stay," they said.
"Right where everyone can see you. Ashes kept in full view. I will not hide what I did to you," they said.
"You catch the light just right, beautiful," they said.
"It's almost as if you were meant to be broken."