My Heart

It's amazing how something that can fit in the palm of my hand can hold so much love and heartbreak.

How something that keeps me alive can feel so fragile.

How something made of muscle can feel as brittle as the glass from the window you smashed.

The heart is so strong, yet it is my greatest weakness.

So I hide my heart the way I hide the bruises, with walls and lace and hope.

Hope for the future, and what it may hold.

Hope that in some way, I will escape my chains and taste release as sweet as the frosting on the cake you made.

The cake you made and smashed to pieces in a fight that ended in tears.

No, not yours but mine.

Always mine.

But still my heart keeps containing love and heartbreak.

And still I go on.