my heart wasn’t intact when I met you
but you took my pieces
and arranged them into a puzzle I didn’t know could complete me.
you held them close,
cherishing the small details they entailed,
and warmed them when they were bitter.
one day,
you decided my puzzle wasn’t yours anymore,
and you threw away those tiny, curvy fragments.
a few there and a few here,
I will find them.
I’ll piece them back together,
and find my heart again.
looking up at the stars,
I wonder why my heart feels this way,
the same way it did before I met you.