first heartaches
but not an innocent
and gentle
introduction
to sorrow

first heartbreaks
of fists and claws
tearing fibers away
memories of stumbling, gripping
the threads together, so far from sewn

stitched heart strings
together, or tried to,
fire came, not right
but right on time, and blazed through
the twines and lines

first heart pains
not kind or lenient,
or considerate of youth.
ripped and burned,
and drained,
and i had only a child’s blood to bleed.