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I Hope You See My Heart

  • Writer: Madie
    Madie
  • Feb 21, 2020
  • 2 min read

Art by: @dani.r.art




A puzzle with pieces that don't all fit together

Some glued down with certainty

Some I'm too afraid to turn over

Some were buried in the backyard by the swing set

Others I hold proudly as if trophies

Some I bind in casts

Some with wounds I let fester

And I, along with those who I hold close, will pay for that


The heart is not what we perceive it to be

Too often this vital organ is framed as our soul

Practicality becomes blindsided by romanticism


I'm not as I appear on the surface, and neither are you

I'm not my face

I'm not my clothes

I'm not my body

I'm not a dancer, writer, my occupation

Those are things I do

Not who I am


My "heart" is composed of passions, scars, and heartbreaks

It holds my generosity

It holds my light

I am soft, yet sharp

Fragile, yet rugged

A setting sun laced with dark clouds


I hide boxes of old memories in every dark corner of this dwelling place

Some I've emptied

Others I've let collect dust

Some I've gotten rid of

But they've crept their way back in

Uninvited

Some I pry open when the present circumstances don't suffice

And every once in a while, w

When the sun shines just right,

I crack a window and let the light trail inside.


I hide my true cowardice under painted layers of bravery

Though with trembling hands I will fiercely protect those I treasure- don't cross me here


I've got a kind heart and a gentle spirit

A rough exterior and a warrior component


As you can see, a lot of my pieces don't make sense when placed together

A Picasso-like level of intricacy


I can take things out of context when I'm under stress

I'm not your assumptions- not too many know me

Valuable things are often kept under lock and key

I'm one to weigh my options carefully


I'm not a short fuse

Just ignited by passion

Writing all of this just so one person can read it


An advocate of direct communication

But I don't want the glass to shatter by coming from a place of arrogant disposition

True feelings buried under confusion and dissociation

My body's own way of protection


I've bled my soul on this paper

And it still doesn't seem like enough

But after all of this

I hope you can see my heart

I leave a piece of it behind in my every attempt at art







 
 
 

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