I should take my heart to counseling.
Except I don’t want it fixing.
I need it to keep doing wrong things.
Hanging onto the best parts of you
even after all this time.
Wearing your hurts like ornaments
on a Christmas  tree.
I don’t want to be smart
and put you in the past
like I should do
I need my brain to slug it out
with my heart like prizefighters
Ok I am a damaged broken person.
If that makes me a little less lovable
so be it.
I will pour my therapy into my poems.
They don’t judge me
and I know they understand
if I heal with scars.