Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
I held a real heart in my hands today. I held it in my palms so cautiously as if it were gold, yet that didn't stop me from feeling as if it were going to break. I saw a straight incision slice down the middle and felt the eerie texture of its atriums sit on the base of my fingertips. And I realized just how fragile this person's heart must have been. I wondered if she ever got her heart broken much deeper than some superficial carving. I wondered if her heart ever pumped faster or harder or stronger or passionately at the sight of another. I wondered if maybe she gave hers away thinking of it as a last plea to the one person she loved most, but it just ended up in my fragile fingers. gd
0
May 9, 2014
May 9, 2014 at 10:23 PM UTC
Cadavers.
I held a real heart in my hands today. I held it in my palms so cautiously as if it were gold, yet that didn't stop me from feeling as if it were going to break. I saw a straight incision slice down the middle and felt the eerie texture of its atriums sit on the base of my fingertips. And I realized just how fragile this person's heart must have been. I wondered if she ever got her heart broken much deeper than some superficial carving. I wondered if her heart ever pumped faster or harder or stronger or passionately at the sight of another. I wondered if maybe she gave hers away thinking of it as a last plea to the one person she loved most, but it just ended up in my fragile fingers. gd
Written by
Canadian
May 9, 2014
May 9, 2014 at 10:23 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem