Some people say the dangers of having ones heart exposed, beating outside of your chest, are numerous.
The heart gets exposed to all the assailants of the outside world, It stands the danger of being too hot or too cold, It can beat to fast or to slowly and it always runs a much higher rist of being bashed or bruised.
So, I tried to tuck it in. Nice and safe beating in my chest, each day getting stronger, bruises become scars and eventually you cant feel them any more.
The heart then gets to spend its time protected, and the owner is sheilded from the dangers of the outside world.
There is a down side. No one can see its brilliance, the way the chambers work, the colour changes, the purity in the fact that even when it gets bumped, it still beats. Steady , strong but beats.
What good is the miracle of a heart if no one knows that it is there, If it never had the chance to face the outside and still survive.
I took out my heart today, I turned it in my hands and looked at the scars. I wept for the memory of them and I found there was still pain when they were touched.
I noticed something new, there was a beauty in the webbing, the way the lines connected the ridges an the folds, the way they shone and danced with each beat in a patter that was unique to me.
There were places I could see the beat was a struggle, the tissues tighter where the scars ran deep.
Some one saw me while I was holding it, I was tempted to hide it again but they looked too, and told me it was beautiful.
They saw my scars, and admired the way the it shone and danced with all its scars, they way it just kept beating.
I left my heart out today, to dance and be exposed to the assailants of the outside world. I won't put it back in my chest, I can't. How can you deny something powerul enough to dance and shine, even when the old wounds hurt. It just keeps beating.