The heart is fragile.
The heart is rarely light.
The heart is so weak.
The heart I carry is heavy.
The heart I carry is cracking.
The heart I carry is leaking emotion out of control.
The heart I carry is too loving.
The heart I carry is too caring.
The heart I carry defends all but myself.
The heart I carry reaches out and is burned by other's flame of passion.
The heart I dropped is shattered.
The heart I dropped is leaking across the floor.
The heart I dropped has lost its inner warmth.
The heart I hold is piercing my skin like glass.
The heart I hold is bloody.
The heart I hold is empty and cold.
The heart I hold is held together by string dyed in red.
The heart I hold is floating lighter than a feather.
The heart is flying held back only by the string of my pinky finger.
The heart is fighting to be released.
The heart is cracking.
The heart is breaking.
The heart is falling.
The heart is in shards on the floor.
I pick up the heart.
One shard at a time.
It ends up in the box of my ribcage.
The heart is too weak to be revealed to others.
The heart is too fragile to let go of.
I walk away.
The red soaks into the street.
The string trails after connected to my pinky finger.
The forgotten shards are crushed into the ground by passerby.
I go home.
I take out the heart.
I take up the glue.
I piece together the broken heart.
The heart is incomplete.
I fill the heart with warm liquid and love again.
I put the heart back in my chest.
I walk away.
The heart is leaking.
I am leaking emotion.
I step on the crushed and forgotten shards.
I feel numb and cold.
The heart is empty.
Another heart passes by.
The heart is half it used to be.
The heart turns.
The heart breaks and fills in the cracks.
My heart is whole.
My heart is warm.
His heart is melting.
His heart fills anew.
We walk together.
We are warm.
Our hearts are filling.
Red string connects our hands.
Our hearts are whole.
Our hearts are growing.
Our hearts are kind.
Our hearts are caring.
Our hearts are strong.
Our hearts are stable.
Our hearts are together.
YOU ARE READING
Emotions Overflow
PoetryThis is a book composed of emotions, not always poetry at it's finest nor is it a work of art. It's a mess, just like the day to day goings of life. This book was written over the course of the 2020-2021 school year
