I find it strange that you know how to love even after those many broken pieces.
Those many times you cried and swore not to give a piece of yourself again but you still have managed To go by each day with hope. You have still believed for the best in people even those that make promises you doubt they can keep but still you deliver them your soul.
Who are you even?
What kind of clay molded a thing so precious that even bruised continues to have blood flow through it when it could just stop.
Dear heart, today I thought of the many times I wanted t give up but you refused to let go. You are the real MVP. A true definition of love