I was born with a broken heart.
there was a deep crack in the middle and my blood couldn't flow the way it should.
I was three when the doctors took up my red thread and sewed me together.
my heart is fixed, now.
my blood flows
with each beat
tugging at the string of fate severed before I could breathe.
I see others, following their threads, searching desperately for who has the other end.
and my hands are free of red.
there is blue, purple, green, yellow,
but not the crimson of love and loss and longing.
my broken heart is still broken,
but now it works.