You cast it away
because you say it’s broken,
but it’s not.
You see the worth of nothing.
You wallow in your ideas of perfection.
Sometimes, you see the greatest things as flawed—
the one cloud in the sky on a sunny day--
but perfect things are tedious.
The cloud doesn’t make the day any less warm,
and the mole on your chin
Makes your face more human,
and just because I don't love you
the way that you think I should
Doesn't mean that I love you any less.
This heart is yours.
It's cracked but it still works.
Don't cast it away.