I always likened my heart as covered in flames, resting frivolously on my sleeve. Licking whomever came too close, warming those just out of reach. It was fierce and strong. A hot tempered ball that could be tamed, if only for a time. It eventually would consume and turn hands to ash, unstable and unable to truly be felt anymore past the ignition. Light everything ablaze without waiting to see what arose from the pyre. The fire glowed with energy and purpose. It needed to burn.
One day it became empty and black. A hole borrowed from the inside out, made rotten by an unnoticed parasite. An iron casing enclosed what good parts were left, and the outside fell away, over time. It once again, alit in flames, although much harder to maintain, it rested willfully out on it's perch, waiting to regain it's strength. The parasite was enclosed in the iron casing and eventually turned to rot once again. A hole burned through showing almost complete destitution. The very thing that kept me alive had also burned me inside out.
Raw and peeling, it hadn't lost completely of flesh, just of spirit. It became a desperate thing, looking for someone to coddle it and hold a match to it. Only, the match never ignited the flame. It only gave off the illusion of something deeper. Threatened by the tiny torch leaving or burning what raw was left of my dear heart, for a long time it lingered. One day, with a quick blow, after countless threats, the match gave out with a stream of smoke.
Cold and restless, it remained ash. While matches strike near and far, I blow them out, one by one. I realized long ago, my flame isn't made by others. This love is built, over time, over patience. With respect and trust. A match isn't going to ignite such a thing at this time. It's not ready, it will burn out too quickly and fade away. I must protect it but also nurse it. It needs inner power to burn, without pain but, instead with passion.
A moth to a flame, the rot tries to come back, looking for any warm ashes to lay eggs and multiply. Good luck. There are none. I covered my heart with earth. I buried it deep down. You probably won't ever find it again. This is the trouble with hearts. If left unattended for too long, if left hung to dry, or sunk too far, it may get lost. Stuck in limbo may prove to be where it lies now. It has a slow burn but, it needs to be coaxed out.
I suggest you buy a shovel.
Comments
Post a Comment