MOZAIC

This mozaic that makes my heart, hurts.
Each crack tells a story that somebody hit it there,
or hard enough to shatter the whole piece,
shards splintering and splitting down the center,
like small fortune cookies or caramel chocolates
with pieces of my soul inside
to dribble out and fall upon the wayside,
leaving criss-crossed scars pulsating across my heart,
pink and unskinned along the edges of the cracks,
elevated above the rest of the tissue,
saying: "here lies the Mozaic,
that once was my heart."

FIRST ATTEMPT WAS:

This mozaic that makes my heart, hurts.
Each crack tells a story that somebody hit it there,
or hard enough to shatter the whole piece,
shards splintering and splitting down the center,
like small fortune cookies or caramel chocolates
with pieces of my soul inside
to dribble out and fall upon the ground
where they can be trampled by your shoes.

Copyright Š2007 Ashi Shadow 7/19/07
It took a wrong turn the first time I tried it, so I got rid of the last line of the first attempt and did that bit again. (Inspired by Katie and others of course. The "You" or reader is not meant to be exclusively Katie, but almost anyone.)