When she breaks, every sore from days past stirs inside.
Sifting through the memories which sting and shiver in the corners,
Like forgotten children with hungry bones and searching eyes.
When she is wounded, she cries again every tear that ever slipped from her soul.
An open damn. Water running with the wind. A sense of wild, uncertain freedom.
When her pain burns within, the heart beats louder than before, building her capacity for life,
Expanding her range to feel, to hold, to grow love.
Each heart string to snap transforms into gold.