Poem: Broken Heart

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My heart was chipped,


a thousand times, 

like my favourite porcelain plate,

inherited from my grandmother.


The rosy porcelain 

with wavy borders

housed dragons.

They breathed fire when provoked,

and on each occasion,

leaving behind a fingerprint,

A chip.


Each chip,

deep, impressionable,

 reminds me of the moments when

I touched my boundaries.

When the serene fragrant 

flower of peace 

burnt in a torrid flame of rage.


They harboured moments

when my expectations 

were shattered,

leaving me 

Heart broken.


If you count the chips,

You could count my heart breaks,

which broke at regular 

and irregular intervals,

through the tortuous lanes

of Life.


But when I lost you,

my treasured porcelain

broke into a thousand pieces.


I retrieved every shard of my pain,

Collected the droplets of blood and tears

With bleeding hands

and stored them in a 

secret chamber of my heart

where they still 

bleed in silence

along with my broken heart.

Image courtesy: Pixabay

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