Some nights I like to think about things that break my heart a little
Small delightful pains
Like how my chest feels heavy when I look at the stained glass windows at church
The rain drops falling off the leaves when it has long stopped raining
The rhyme I learned at my aunt’s knee but whose words I can never remember
The pink flowers that grew out of the neighbors hedges, I never learned what they were called
The memory of my mum’s perfume, sometimes when I close my eyes hard enough, I can really smell it
Small things to break my heart, little cracks at a time
Maybe then it won’t be so bad when it finally shatters