Where my heart lies.

I fear that someday my heart may fall out of my chest.

I close my eyes and I see it.

My chest is empty.

My heart is scattered in a million small pieces. It lies limp, losing its erratic beat as oxygen escapes from its exposed cells. I tried so hard to keep it safe under this pale flesh blanket and tucked between ribbed bars and lungs and veins. But I attempted to no avail.

I see myself scrambling on the floor to pick up the pieces, almost missing the flesh that fell beneath my bed. So many pieces strewn across my bedroom floor. So many pieces slipping through my fingers. So many pieces spread across so much distance. So many pieces; who can hold them all?

Tonight I lay in my bed, arms crossed over my chest, palms curled into fists, eyes clenched shut as to keep the darkness out. Beneath my eyelids there is darkness still. I pull in tightly, keeping everything together, holding my heart inside. It seems to be working though I feel an ominous emptiness in my chest.

I open my eyes to the darkness of my room and in the shadows I face fear. Maybe it’s not really there, I think. Maybe it fell out a long time ago. Maybe the pieces are already scattered.

I shake off these silly thoughts and adjust my eyes to the darkness beneath my lashes, pulling in tighter just to make sure my heart is there. I feel its steady beat. Thump. Thump. I breath in and exhale my fears. I roll over and begin to dream.

Still, sometimes I think I’ll wake up and see my heart lying on the floor.

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