I put my heart in a jar on a shelf
for safekeeping
next to the salt and flour-
I promised myself two years ago
(hair unwashed
and tears streaming down my face
like a cliche chick movie
showing the audience
this is what happens when you
let someone in!)
that I would leave it there for good.
And I have been falling asleep next
to men who have never asked me
why there isn’t a beating in my chest
but they stay by my side
and I am an addict for comfort and security-
I confuse the two for love-
and just when I think that
I have a stalwart lover at my side
and the memories of the hurt
start to subside
and I am on my tippytoes carefully moving
the sugar and rice jars out of the way
and I find it and twist the cap
and pull it out
turn around in dismay
to find there is no one left to give it to
because love isn’t just a safe place to land
it is the sensation that would have me
barreling to the pantry
breaking every jar on the shelf
and taking my scarred, sad little heart
and thrusting it into hands that
promise to hold it forever.

Love is knowing they can break it
but giving it to them anyway.



One thought on “11.11.13

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