My Heart, The Poet
By Loviel
If my heart had hands,
It would write the most raw
Lovesick, broken poetry.
It would write on tear-warped paper
Smeared with ink
Because it simply couldn’t write fast enough.
It would write the words it couldn’t yell
Snapping pencils and ripping paper;
The words it couldn’t express
Written with a favorite pen in cursive.
It would say how it bears the weight of the world's pain
Yet it can only do so much.
It would tell the world that love hurts
That is is the most confusing, frustrating
Overwhelming emotion known to man
But to do it anyways—
To do it as much as you can
Because everytime,
It’s just as beautiful as the last.
It would say that it has been healed
As many times as it has been injured,
But the pain remains so vivid
It forgets the bruises are no longer there.
If my heart had hands,
It would be dangerously transparent
But so beautifully and utterly true.