If my heart was kaleidoscopic,
colored shards clashing,
catching light I'll never know;
I'd drop one piece off at my parents' house,
sculpted in the shape
of the boy they raised:
obedient,
kind-eyed,
always reaching for their praise.
I'd wrap a fragment around my lover's neck,
a reflection of the man
she thinks I am;
warm enough to hold her,
heavy enough to stay.
I'd shatter one into more pieces yet,
a mirror for each old friend;
and in times of need
instead of listening for me,
and finding silence,
it would hold their hand,
and sing them to sleep.
If my heart was kaleidoscopic,
I would hand over every last shard
until my chest was empty -
and all that remained
was the quiet peace
that everyone I loved
had taken a part of me to keep.