Heart like a grenade. Fragments everywhere. Pieces in Kentucky and North Carolina and a couple of schools I'd really not want to ever set foot in again. More pieces embedded in other people - family and friends here, in other cities and states, in Germany and Iraq and Australia and Britain and God knows where else. Others thrum and burn at a voice or a song or a memory. Some have been flung so far out into space as to be almost nonexistent.
Such a short fuze. Takes no pull at all to set it off. One word or verse or thought in the right place and it's fire in the hole. Anger to joy to lust to despair to euphoria to numb.
Whole hearted. Sounds great. Lots of pieces for God to collect. Only He can find them. What's my part of the deal?
About Me
- Bootsaint
- New London, Connecticut, United States
- ugly and loved, armed and polite, spiritual and realistic, angry and hopeful, a soft heart and a hard target, here before you, will be here when you're gone, always turning up for my true friends (there are better friends than me, but I've got most of them), under orders to love my enemies, but that doesn't make me their doormat. Still here? Thanks. Read on.
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