I asked my mother, tears pouring my eyes, "How many times can a heart survive being broken?"
She smiled softly, patting my hair and said, "Until the day it no longer has to. After all, why would it keep letting people break it if it found the one that holds its pieces together?"

My mom.
She always smells like lavender.
She holds me close as my heart trails down my face & splatters on the kitchen floor.

My mom.
All she offers is comfort.
And there is nothing I need more.