You’d have broken the heart of
A younger me, kept safely in
The realms of fantasy, well away from
Real teenage tragedy, from real love.

I feel the burning in my chest:
The memory of my heart as a firework
Sends sparkles through my veins,
Illuminating the scars left by
Shiny shards of porcelain.

There was a pattern there that
I did not acknowledge, and
That may not have gone away.

All those hours of sleep sacrificed
As I tried to live a different day;
As I moved myself across an ocean
In spirit, desperate to be appreciated
As I never was in my own world.

Or maybe it was all in my head:
Longsightedness to save me from
What was right in front of me,
And keep me out of potential harm’s way.

It is a phase of my life that
I don’t talk about now, but
Can never forget. I broke
My own heart so it could not
Be broken for me; I still
Feel the pain now.

So, you would not have broken
My younger heart, after all:
You’d have found it in pieces,
Scattered across the globe, a victim
Of its owner’s fear.

04/05/2016

Posted on 05/22/2016
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