Bleeding Heart

My heart doesn’t bleed.
It pounds, it beats
It screams
Electricity burns through it
Life,
Life
it holds it in,
pushes it.
Demands it.
Demands time
energy
oxygen.
It doesn’t cease
it fights
against constant floods
and fires and quakes.
It stutters, and stumbles,
and when met with an immoveable object
it becomes the unstoppable force.

Armored and scarred
My heart doesn’t bleed.
But it cries.
Felt crippling pain and ache
sorrow.
Compassion.
Hopes against hope
when wounded and scared.
Beats in silence
out of respect,
out of understanding.

A cacophony that doesn’t cease
refuses,
it has to.
It has no choice.
You are hell-bound to make it bleed.
But it sees,
it sees you.
Sees your broken beat,
sees you bleeding.

My heart doesn’t bleed.
It pounds, it beats.
So you,
yes you,
can have a moment of relief.
So you can learn what it means

to have a heart
and not have it bleed.

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