Heart Pieces

Heart Pieces

I am tearing my heart into pieces.
It is so much easier to begin with a broken one,
so much easier to just dole out the pieces
to everyone who I feel deserves one.
Well, there’s the piece that is back home,
in the hands of a boy who never really cared
and only pretended he did.
And it beats slowly, oh so slowly,
but he doesn’t feel a thing,
no he doesn’t feel a thing.
Another piece is being offered,
tentatively, fearfully, to another,
one who doesn’t hear it,
one who doesn’t understand,
and one who might not even truly care.
There’s another piece I’m holding now,
contemplating on whether to give it away.
My head keeps telling me, “I don’t know”
and “maybe the signs are wrong”,
but slowly it’s leaving my hands and heading towards his.
The last piece is my own, my very own,
I cannot give it away,
for no one can hold my entire heart in his hands.