I'll take your hand and ask you to point at my heart.
You might point at my chest and say that it's beating behind the cage of my ribs hidden by flesh.
You might point to my sleeve to show that you know I fell for you, that I like you but you don't feel the same and that is why my time is being wasted when flirting with you.
You may tell me it's everywhere around us because I see you where I see most people whose opinions I care about, so you guys know my heart is out for you.
You might tell me that it's all over the place because I've given pieces of it to the wrong people, and that I will never be whole again.
I'll take your hand and ask you to point at my heart, where you point and what you say are up to you.