Paper Heart

I made him a heart out of paper, wrapped around itself,
And handed it over to him with a smile. "This is my heart,"
I said, "Take care of it as if it's your own." And he stared,
Confused, but smiled shyly. "I'm no good at this."
And with a single motion, he pulls it apart,
Watching it disappear into a bent and crinkled piece of
Everyday paper, unrecognizable as my heart.
"Oh God, that was my heart! And I gave it to you!
Fix it before it dies!" I cry, as I watch my shriveled paper
Heart float listlessly to the table below, broken and forgotten.
"I don't know how! I've never held someone's heart before.
You're the first, you know." He continues to stare at my
Mangled paper heart as it twists between my deftly moving
fingers. He is distressed this time. "You fix your heart since you
Made it for me and I just don't know how." "Alright, I will,
Just this once, but you must promise to hold on tight."
So I wind my paper heart back together, twisting the strips of
Well-bent paper, and give it right on back. "Take care of it,"
I remind him. "I've only got the one"
And then we stand up to leave together,
Walking into the street. "Where is my heart?" I ask him.
"Where'd you put my heart?" He looks up at me, panic
In his eyes. "I left it." Together we look back from where
We came. And there it sits. Behind us, on the table, sits my
Lonely paper heart, which I gave to him. My heart, left behind to
Be swept into the garbage, abandoned by the one who held it.
My broken paper heart.