You take this self

and whisper

You are, you are, you are.

What am I?

You are that soul that

needs a refill

that needs a hand lovingly placed

on your heart.

You need a word of supreme comfort

that melts away the broken, jagged parts

those tired, worn out dislocated parts,

that sweeps away the shards

to leave a clean slate so you

can plant the garden once again with what

you choose to grow.