Emily Dickinson

Proud Of My Broken Heart

Proud of my broken heart, since thou didst break it. Proud of the pain, I did not feel? till thee. Proud of my night, since thou, with moons, dos’t shake it. Not to partake thy passion, -my humility Thou can’st not boast, like Jesus, drunken without companion Was the strong cup of anguish brewed for the Nazarene Thou can’st not pierce tradition with the peerless puncture, See! I usurped thy crucifix to honor mine!

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