No Matter

It doesn't matter how sharp your tongue is or how strong your arms are.
Sometimes, you are just not safe.
No matter what.
No matter.

Because people get in. They make their way, across your moat and over your barbed wire. Passed your armor. They make their way.
No matter how hard you try to keep them out.
No matter.

That's what a broken heart does to you. You sing a song in the wrong key. And then you sing it in the wrong key, again.
That's the difference.
It's not just once.
You pattern.
No matter.

And then it fades. And that's alright.

The real poem is in the translation.
The real matter is not the momentary one here. It's not the loss. It's what remains.

I remain.

Richer for the experience, better for the sight.
Humbled by the honor.
And completely in love with my life.


Her - I am a broken record.
Him - You are far from broken.

This is for Clare