Fragments Of Heartbreak in Paris

Evvi, 10th - Vermont
This morning I watched,
as someone I love broke their heart.

Over and over,
I watched them wander through the secret streets of Paris,
clumsily holding their heart in their hands.

It wasn't their fault, you see,
hands moistened with tears of sadness,
a hint of relief hidden within,
the tension of deep emotion lingers in the air.

This morning I watched,
as someone I love let their heart fall,
onto the unforgiving cobblestone sidewalk.

The streets filled with a sea of red silk,
and golden sparkles glistened like forgotten coins,
while dreams shattered into shimmering shards.

As the sun casts its shadows, veiling the city,
the heart lays exposed and vulnerable,
its beats echoing softly through the city's veins.

I watched as strangers pass by,
oblivious to the delicate fragments of the lost soul,
each glistening shard as a testament to love's fragility.

If you listen closely,
the Seine in the distance whispers secrets,
consoling the fallen heart,
promising that time will mend its cracks.

Yet in that moment, 
as heart met stone,
the glass of quiet resilience shattered,
forming a mosaic of the heart's journey.​