when i heard
the heart is a muscle
i thought that it
just
must be
magically
made stronger
i did not know
that our aches
and breaking
forge new tissue
to endure the sorrow
of life
and so i guarded it
jealously
a mother curled over
precious child
with suspicious eyes
and teeth bared
bearing its weight
gently, searching intensely into every beat
with white gloved hands
hid it away at every opportunity
behind white picket smiles
and chaperoned open mics
my heart has never endured
a scratch
that i didnt
coddle out of its aching
or a bruise i didnt
persistently distract it from feeling
or a wound i never
allowed altogether
this atrophied muscle aches for growth
it yearns for the pain
that other people have hated knowing
i hope my aimless heart
forgives me
for how my protection
smothered her
how can she know she was burned
if she was too numbed
to feel the pain
in my life
i have seen how heartbreak
heals
how it
cracks open
withering hearts like milkweed pods
how the light
that can unfurl from that shattered spirit
floats so weightlessly
that even dandelions envy their seeds
this anxiety i’d kept
for how horrifically i might break
held me down heavier than gravity
until time splintered
fear into envy
i want to
feel my heart go sore
from the pain of its beating
i want to feel the heat of sorrow
be it sunlight on my back
or a hot stove blistering hands
i want to feel this seat of my soul
stretch
into a larger shape
from all the aches
of living
sad and joyful alike
i am in mood for heartbreak
im in the mood
to feel
again