The Pocket

Patching the hearts,
Worn out from loving
Ive always kept a needle,
And a thread in my pocket
Life will always keep on pushing
Time is not yet stopping
Even with the skies getting inkier
Either from the wounds
Or the ink I spilled
But I've learnt
To leave a chance
After every trouble I'm causing
*
Everybody has had me
Listen to their broken stories
I've kept my eyes open
I've listened to them
And I'll listen to you
While you still have me
Ill keep in my pocket
A glue
To piece back your heart
When you're down
When you're blue
**
And I also keep
A broken paint brush in my pocket
To colour the stars that may have faded
Or the torn picture in the locket
I can also stare at the moon
If you want me to
And I can also
Crack a smile through the storm
Or guide you back to where you belong
People are variables in the life you live
But I can also be a constant
***
Now
Everytime I slip my hand in my pocket,
Theres something red throbbing under my fingertips
To ensure myself its still there
I pull it out of the pocket
It's a heart that has my name on it
With a tight weave of the thread
And healed bruises around
With some clumsy words
Of the stories it holds
Yet it's a heart
I've worked hard to have
It's your heart
That I hold in my hand