What if hearts are meant to age and break
like bodies do
And all of their chips and cracks and defunct parts
Are like badges of honor for a heart that’s loved and a life lived through
What if hearts that aren’t worn or broken become more like cars preserved in show rooms
Whose tires have never marked the asphalt nor windows felt the patter of rain
Maybe I want my heart to break and ache and crack and later turn to dust
So that I can say I’ve truly loved…