your words mean more to me than you know.
the compliments and criticisms alike replay in my head
over and over.
at each utterance and letter
my heart grins or grieves,
I can be built up like a tower
or come crumbling down.

for you have me heart,
so speak gently.

you have gone through a lot,
little heart.
you have been to places I cannot imagine.
you have seen sorrow I have never seen.
little heart- you are strong.
your outer covering is of pure leather that no nail can penetrate,
but your core is soft and sweet and I can see it peaking through.
little heart - you are mine
and I will protect you
as best as my own
frail heart
can do.

We need Artists.
We need Creators.
Who else would take our chins
by the tips of their fingers,
rotate our heads,
turn our crusted eyes
from the screens
and bleak skies,
and show us beauty
and fill our hearts,
and give us hope.