I'm not making mosaics
from these shattered parts
of my fragmented heart
hopelessly holding on to the past
because unlike stained glass
which can be mended anew
and pieced together with glue
this will heal down with scars
that will ache like the stars
how they flicker in the dark
'til they lose all their spark
   leaving only a trace
of a broken embrace
I'm not making mosaics.