I sewed you into my heart, weaved you into my life, a thousand times over, desperate to keep you close, attached. You kept slipping away and so I used the thread of my soul and stitched you tighter. But somehow you escaped, bounded for your freedom. Now I have to pull the stitching out of me so my heart can be free. I’m so tangled up in what was left. As I pull and tug to break the strings, the tangled mess tightens it’s grip around my heart, it hurts so bad to pull out the stitching. Maybe my heart will grow over it; like tree bark over it’s own branches it will make it’s own art.