My Broken Diamond Heart
The familiar racing of my heart
meant my body was preparing for battle.
I built my walls up, brick by brick, to protect
my already aching heart. Defenses ready,
I heard your sharp footsteps through
my bedroom door get closer as they echoed in my ear.
As you opened the door, you immediately began
to attack me with the words of a damaged soul.
My defenses were strong, but they became weaker
by the second. Your hot words burned, scorched, and forced
their way into my heart of sand, turning it into a diamond.
I had taken in all I could…this was my chance to fire back,
to take offense. I readied my weapon for first strike.
I took in a deep breath,
I pursed my lips,
I lifted my tongue to the tip of my mouth,
I was ready to release the bullets that would
roll of my tongue like butter, like I had
been doing this my whole life.
I could feel the strength of my diamond heart
blessing me with its undeniable power.
Unfortunately, not every diamond is strong
enough to withstand such immense pressure.
Like a firework exploding under a frozen lake,
my diamond heart burst into a million pieces.
I let go of the breath I was holding,
I closed my lips,
I rolled my tongue to the back of my mouth,
and I swallowed the bullets that were
meant for you.
Instead I released
the bullets upon myself,
my broken diamond heart.
You left me shattered, damaged, and empty.
You made me become my own worst enemy,
attacking myself with the bullets that were meant for you.
These bullets made their way up to my eyes, forcing tears to
burst out and flow down my red cheeks. These tears, however,
were not enough to release the war that raged on inside.
I had to fire these bullets somewhere else…
I looked down into my hands
planning to sleep the pain away,
planning to dream of a better day.
Before I let the anchors drooping from my heavy
eyelids fall, I saw a bright white pen
that filled my eyes with light, with hope.
The brightness of the pen seemed to
make a path of light for my patchy red eyes to follow.
The light landed on a deep blue journal
that looked like an ocean of possibilities.
I grabbed the pen and the journal and began to write.
The black words on the page started out small,
but got larger, just like my pupils
which expanded to express how good it felt
to release the bullets that flowed
through the veins of my body to the page.
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