My Heart Capsule
Cracks from carrying time.
Oh, how things have changed,
It cracks my heart that they will never be the same.
I close my eyes to stop the memories from fade,
I see the images, and suddenly, I’m not afraid.
But sounds of chatter, screeching, and crying,
Break me open from my past flying.
I quickly let it in,
Then slam it close.
Another crack widens, another crack grows.
My heart is a capsule,
And inside it holds
A lifetime of thorns, like a delicate, beautiful red rose.
My heart is a capsule, covered now with cracks,
Of distant, lingering memories.
How long will it last?
Every word I share here comes from the depths of my heart, and I hope a few have found their way to yours. ❤️
You can support my work by becoming a paid subscriber or by “buying me a tea” through the links below. Each subscription or contribution helps support my family and me, and we are so incredibly grateful.
Thank you for stopping by At My Cottage in the Country. 🌿
If you enjoyed this post, be sure to subscribe!
Another crack widens, another crack grows — cracked me wide open ❤️🩹 this is beautifully written
I keep coming back to the way the cracks are described—not just as breaks, but as spaces that hold something fragile and beautiful, like that red rose. There’s a tenderness there, even in the pain, a sense that the heart is layered and complex, not just broken.