play-dough heart

words can't match feelings
reality can't match dreams.
Its not what i had hoped for, I'm not what I had hoped to be.
frustrated when the image in my head doesn't match the strokes on the canvas.
And in it all, in this all, have I become jaded and dry?
When things aren't as they should be, when you fail me, when you miss my plan,
do i just give up?
When you touch my play-dough heart, does it crumble?

or is there hope?

Take my heart. press your thumbs in.
mold it, shape it, form it.

stamp it with trust.

More strokes will join those on the canvas, and the invisible ink will show itself, and a captivating picture will one day fill my eyes.

but it will be your picture, not mine.