My dear,
Me.
Thrumming underneath.
Sobbing.
My sure soft
Heart.
Sleeping between each broken
Part.
Have we waited here
Before?
Swallowed the lock
Afraid of the
Door?
Little one--
You're not so
Small.
Far far more than we might be  
Tall.
Far far more than we're often  
Limited.
Far beyond such simple
Primitive.
Bigger than these boxing
Halls,
Far beyond our fearing
Walls.
Little heart in petal
Glass--
Pink clear water of the
Past--
Listen now, your worried
Heart.
Don't just pull, but simply
Start.
Sorting through the worried
Ends,
Kissing every broken
Bend,
And laugh with every angry
Knot,
Smile because know we ought--
To know no better,
Or be more good.
Listen to right where we
Stood.
And hold it up into the
Light,
Abandon what we fixed as
right.
Abandon notions of
"What"
and
"Might."
And open now, to endless
White.
And healing
Dark,
Trace along each mending
Mark,
And I, sweet me--
Just simply
Start.