The heart this morning feels like the egg shells of a nursery rhyme character that cannot be put together again. Sometimes, you wonder why God gave you a heart that could remember so well, and a mind to dissect things over and over so carefully. These two anatomy don't quite belong together. It has brought you nothing but an impetus to sink in further than you already have.

In every woman's closet is the skeleton of a someone whose bones and memories will not rot

and even after decomposition,

refuse to intergrate and blend into the present