At 9:15,
I broke my own heart.
Shattered it in two.

I've never been good
At cutting things.
My wrapping paper has never been straight.
The thread and yarn once trimmed
Would be just as frayed as before.

So it's no surprise that rather than a clean break,
We splintered.

But you don't have to be happy
To be happy you're alive
And shattered, unique edges
Make the puzzle easier to put together.

I guess.

I hope.

I pray.