You threaded the needle to stitch my broken heart.
You pressed salve into wounds I dared not show.
You wrapped gauze around the blood I couldn’t stop.
You held my hand as I cried through the ache.

You kissed each bruise like a whispered promise,
Tender in your tending, patient in your care.
With your strength, I found my footing,
Together, we walked, side by side.

As you took to my wounds, I embraced yours:
A shaky hand, a trembling breath.
You welcomed the kindness, for a time,
Held my flaws,
Heard my pleas,
Rested in my presence.

But the salves began to drip,
Truth slipping through the seams.
The gauze frayed, falling to the floor,
Pain flaring where healing had begun.

The thread unraveled, stitch by stitch.
I turned to reach for you,
But your hands were busy
Mending someone else.

If only my wounds had mended
Before you treated me.

I’ll rub dirt in it next time.