Your heart is a muscle

Your heart is a muscle, it contracts and relaxes again and again until the day that it doesn’t. Until the day you will no longer need it. But it is still a muscle

 

It can grow stronger, it can be weakened. But like any muscle it can be trained. Taught to love freely and without hesitation, or conditioned by pain. 

 

It beats not by your choice nor will it beat when someone tells it to. She is a free spirit your heart. A strong independent woman, tired of commands.

 

But that doesn’t mean she is not scared. This does not mean that your heart is not pumping with insecurities and confessions. In fact she beats with the force they leave behind

 

Your heart has built many walls. Different shapes and sizes, but still walls. Wrapped tightly around her flesh to shield her from the world. Protection from the unknown.

 

And perhaps she has good reason to. For once someone enters the heart there is no going back. There are no exit signs in circulation. No safe place for U-turns.

 

Much like blood, it can leave the heart if it is given a shove, but will always return soon enough. Whether it takes minutes or days, it will always return.

 

So I will admit that the memory of your smile may never stop circulating throughout my veins, but yours is not the only face, not the only lips once pressed to mine

 

Sometimes a simple kiss is enough to shock my heart back to reality. To restart the circuit playing melodies in my rib cage. To erase the canvas you painted with scars

 

I loved you, with all my heart, but you took my last breath with you. Took the air in my lungs so that the heart that loved you died with the memories we shared.

 

But your heart is a home. Never let strangers walk in without making sure they’ve wiped their feet off at the door. Or else they’ll track lies all the way across your velvet floors

 

But you see your heart is still a muscle, it’s time you learned to be strong.

This poem is about: 
Me

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