My mother used to tell me to be careful
with who I entrust to be the keeper
of my heart.
I ignored her.
After all,
all broken things can be fixed.

Like the sunrise,
relationships came and went.
The pain which the bitter end brought with it,
never lessened with each subsequent visit.

My body began to degrade,
hope began to dissipate,
soul grew tired,
and heart,
torn.

Time never truly healed the tears in my heart
like so many before me had promised.
All these years I thought my mother feared my heart being broken,
alas,
her fears laid in my heart progressively growing numb,
apathetic
and indifferent
with each new person I start with.