It is crazy the amount of times I can break.
I feel like all that should be left of me at this point is a pile of dust.
My prices are too small for most to see so the cracks don't show, but my brokeness has always been something I tend to show.
It's not the sadness that I hold there but the way you have healed me.
Your patch work is immaculate oh mighty healer.
You put surgeons and embroiderers to shame.
You put me back together like no other time and time again.
I have always liked the look of patch work dolls, perhaps they look like my soul when you come in.
They are a reminder of your grace and love when I rip myself open all over again.