Hole In The Hedgerow

My heart a quilt of everyone I’ve ever loved
Tattered, torn, and stitched
And you my mistress of sorrow
With your corner
Who I’d half jokingly propose to
Sooner than my next heartbeat
When I wasn’t who I should be
With the taste of beer on my breath
Cigarette smoke on my clothes
So you could be the proof of my life
Where my stories swept away by time
Could be told by you instead
Home in a person a person at home
But a nomad I roved on
My tired checkered heart
Tattered, torn, and stitched