This article is written by a student writer from the Her Campus at Oxford Emory chapter.
I watched my father’s heart break just a little
day by day it cracked more.
The developing masses
slammed against the edges
ripped apart the heartstrings
pierced straight through the middle.
Pieces fell everywhere
as I ran around,
breathlessly trying to pick up
these scraps of heart.
Strangers only took
only assumed
the worst of him
To the man who gave me everything:
I’m sorry.
I could not watch.
I was powerless.
but, so was he.
We stood stiffly hand-in-hand
chained down by their accusations,
choked by their surrounding lies,
silenced by the fear that ambushed us
I smiled at him,
looked over at what was left of his heart,
shut my eyes and
gave him my own.