I can't help it
I try to stop myself

But I offer my heart,
in every conversation,
Every smile,
Every tear.
It can't be helped
It's a restless bird,
Jumpy and twitchy,
An anxious little creature
And when it comes back
I staunch the bleeding
Suture the wound
I bandage it up.

It presents itself in a silver platter
For passersby to gawk on
To trample and maul,
To spit and to cut
Then I take it back
and dust it up.

It just never gives up
It tells me
"This, this could be it
You need to be brave."
And I watch it
This old senile creature
In my young
Unmarred body
This old wretched thing
Who offers itself
So recklessly.