The Evolution of My Heart

I placed my unconditional heart in the hands of a boy who bit his lips and spoke like the stars. He kept it in the front poket of his t-shirt, moments away from his own. There were points throughout that gentle year I tried to steal back the gift I had given him, but he’d reassure me that it was safe. After countless hours of open conversation and seeing a light in anothers eyes when they looked at my dull heart, I decided it was no longer mine. Because it belonged to him. 

But the days carried on and when his words turned to knives Ifought desperately to get back what was mine. He slammed the doors so hard my ribcage rattled, and I first felt the realness of the hole in my chest, where my heart was missing. When he threw our memories into the river, he tossed my heart along with them. I spent days tryingto fish out the broken pieces of my soul, but nearly half of them were lost forever.

 I pieced my heart back together with concrete blocks and mortar. I refilled the missing pieces with steel rods and titanium screws. I promised myself that I would be more careful with who I let in. But the silver could not replace the gold thread that once stitched my heart togther. I thirsted for those sweet nothings that had once been whispered in my ear. I tried to place my broken heart in the hands of tall boys with soft lips in hopes that they could fix me. But they wanted nothing to do with the parts of me that didn’t taste like a vodka bottle. 

I sat back and watched boys try to crack the code on the chains that weighed down my self esteem and fueled my trust issues. I begged them to stop but they promised me I was special. They promised that if I gave them the keys it would be worth it, that they would hold my hand while I started to heal. They lied. 

I gave pieces of my heart to boys with overdue library books and chiseled jaws. I threw my loving heart around, begging any drunken boy to see something great about it, like my first love had. I have not been so lucky. I am starting to think that no one will ever see past the cracks again. In fact, I am tired of bringing my frail heart out of her cage just to be rejected time after time.

One thought on “The Evolution of My Heart

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s