Posted in Poetry

A Heart

i’ve been careful.

i think it was

time that i was.


you see,

we are

.              used to

hold on-


to things

like they


to us.


but they do not.


we Beat


black and

blue like-


it all

really matters

.                             to us.


but it does not.


so i have been

careful, lately.


i started holding

my own

.                 hand

when i entered

a darkened room.


i’ve stopped


.                  back

knowing my own


.          enough.


i painted

cotton candy

.                         skies,

and put them in

a postcard.


i mailed it to

no one

.              at all.


maybe if we’re

 .                            lucky,

it will reach you

maybe if we’re

.                            lucky,

it won’t.


i guess,

i got tired

of having

a Beating

  .                   Heart.


(or this,

or that,

or you,

or me.)


Hearts are for those

who need

 .                them.

and i don’t need

a thing,

.               at all.



23-year-old writer from Chile. Currently reading, writing, and trying not to lose my mind.

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