I gave you the key to my heart
Even though the door was already
Open for you.
I was naked and vulnerable
Before your eyes
And I was fully dressed.
I was yours
And you weren't mine.


--Eleanor

Screaming out into the void of shame and darkness,
Hoping someone will hear my call and come and bandage the the wound in my chest from heartbreaks that have happened all too much, for someone to save me when I've told them too many times that I could save myself... Broken stitches and ****** gauze is all I have left to keep my heart from falling out of my chest into the dark hole of my soul, a part of me wanting to grab the scissors that lie a few feet away and just put it out of its misery, but there's the other part that holds on with all the strength it can and hope my heart can find its home.

Two 'shes' becoming 'hes'
They were beautiful
And open
And vulnerable
And guarded
It captured me
But they didn't reply to my email
Or accept my facebook friendship
Instead I was left with glorious inspiration
To be open
To be vulnerable
Arms wide,
Embracing change,
To follow my truth
As they followed theirs
Strong, defiant, knowing.
They were on a journey
As I am on mine
And we glimpsed each other
A hint of expression
Behind different steering wheels
Yet it was enough
For me to be touched
For me to remember.

I’m belly-side up,

Vulnerable.

Naked, without guard.

And I hand you the blade,

To carve out my heart.

I sit in bed—
Usually at night—
Possessed with thoughts of you.
They run around in my head
And in my heart
And in my stomach.
Logging feet and meters and kilometers and miles and leagues.

And when I see you—
Sometimes during the day—
My heart begins to beat
Much in the same way it beats
When I see clowns
Or darkness
Or large crowds
Or people who I met once at a party and bonded with but now my sober personality is not quite as uninhibited to talk as we once did
Or any of the other things that terrify me.

And when I hold you—
At many different times—
The weight of your head on my chest
Is heavier than
The weight of your head on my chest
Because there’s also
The weight of your being on my chest
And that also makes my heart beat faster
But I think that’s just a circulation thing.

There are times—
Sometimes in the mornings when you wake me up
Sometimes in the mornings when I wake you up
Sometimes in the middle of the day when you make me laugh
Sometimes in the middle of dinner when we sit in silence
Sometimes in the middle of the night when I feel your breath—
When those words want to come out
But the muscles don’t work
My tongue and my lips
Forget how to move
And form the sounds.

Ah
Ee
L
Uh
V
Uh
Ee
Oo.

Easier done than said.

i went to a witch doctor who uses natural ways of healing
and by witch doctor i mean chiropractor, but the term sounds better for the situation i am about to describe
he asked me questions while i held out my arm
and if my arm fell easily to my side by the pressure he was applying, it meant no
so he asked if i had a heart wall
and my arm fell easily, like the way i fell for you
telling him no
(it was something i already knew but had hoped i suffered from because wouldn't it make life simpler to blame my infirmities on something so emotional and beautiful and dysfunctional we would have constructed together)
he told me my body had nested emotions in other places so as to keep my heart open and vulnerable
one of the places was my left arm
and i didn't realize until tonight that when we first held hands
and your heart was racing so fast i could feel it in my palm
it was my left hand
and
well
that is significant

I ***** apologies faster than the word **** can escape your lips after you stub your toes on the concrete ground / I jump to conclusions, or excuses, or explanations, or whatever, almost as quickly as you can sputter out your endless pathetic promises during those stupid walks on the beach / I can shut myself down emotionally in about as much time as it takes you to say that we're "just friends" after I throw my raw, pulsing heart onto the same **** cutting board we used to make sushi when I asked you if you liked me.

I don't hate you because you broke my heart not once, but twice, but because you lie straight to my face and tell me you don't get butterflies when we kiss at 3am too.