If your hand could reach inside my heart, what would you do with it?

Would you be kind to it?

Or toy with it?

Would you return the feelings of love,

The blood it pumps to my cheeks when I see you?

Would you keep it full,

Fuel to its fire?

Or would you break it,

Mendable only with time.

Not fit the first time,

But perhaps the last.

Would you give me yours in return?

A quid pro quo.

Or take it with nothing in trade?

If my hand could reach inside your heart,

I would gently squeeze.

I would bring back its beat.

I would stop my own if yours could restart.

But I can’t.

So I’ll let mine beat out on its own.