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,

further damaging

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. 

This poem is about: 
Me
My family

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