If I ever lose my heart
that will be a great tragedy
I don't mean broken
or "stolen" by love— but
If I should have to lose my heart
and replace it with another

Another, which hasn't skipped the same
lost beats
or pumped the blood that flushed
my cheeks
If I trade hearts,
for one
that hasn't been shattered
like mine
for one that has been reassembled
by someone whose mind
is not like mine despite the rush of blood
"A" positive that pulsed through valves
so like my old heart.

I don't want it,
whatever it looks like
however it works.

even if it kills me
I want to keep my heart.
the one thats been battered and bruised
the heart that I gave to people
who dropped it.

I want my heart
whose pieces I regathered
the heart I glued together
with foreign fragments

my calloused heart
rebuilt and reconfigured
beyond recognition

the heart whose patterns and textures
are so misaligned.
but the only heart
that could really be mine.

I want that heart.

Because I broke and rebuilt that heart
and for every tear
every wound
every scratch
every scar
every time someone dropped it, and it shattered
every stitch as I sewed it back together
every bandage
every brace
every patch
—that heart is much bigger now.

And those patches
those foreign fragments
are people and places
and things that I love
that took up a place in my heart
left open after every time it broke.

I couldn't glue it together the same way.
there were pieces I put in different places
over and over
because my heart had to beat differently
love differently
but love.
always.

I don't want a different heart.
I want my heart, with all its patterns, textures,
scars, and stitches. Bigger now
and more forgiving.
More capable of love and healing
and happiness.