Pain
A cut,
A bruise,
A hole in my heart,
This gaping wound cannot be fixed.
Broken into pieces
Lying on the floor
Death encroaching
Then a hand,
Small but strong,
Reaches down and grabs my hand
Pulls me up off of the floor and into his arms
He tells me " you can't lay there on the floor, pick yourself up and do something about that hole in your heart.
I can help you, if you want."
Help? Oh yes, help.
"You, help me? Hmm..."
"I'll be there for you every hour of every day, Don't go and take your life away."
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