Patches


A quilt covers my body from head to toe.
It keeps me warm at night when the air is crisp and cool.
The patches that bind the blanket send thoughts through my mind.
Different years, different ages, different memories-
never to be lost.
Its rips and tears represent the harshness the quilt survived.
I might find those same holes in the depths of my heart.
My heart has patches too.
Patches that also keep me warm, warm with love.
The empty areas of my heart, like the rips in the quilt,
can be repaired, but not overnight.
It takes time to make that fix. Time and patience.
My heart is like a quilt of the people and things closest to me.
Those things will never be lost and will never be forgotten.
The thread used to patch this quilt won't ever come undone.

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