I would pull apart my chest
Grasp at my slippery, beating heart
And give it to you.
If only it would mean something.
This mystifyingly frustrating heart,
So confused it couldn't know you were gone and
no longer wanted it.
This cursed heart,
Existed in singular,
unwavering devotion,
Ripping apart my insides
Beating for you
For us.
Supplying me with my lifeblood it also
Reminds me of you
Of us.
Crashing, jolting, relentless waves
of love and passion,
Misspent days, taken for granted by my mind.
But my heart remembers it all.
My mind and my heart,
They battle each other:
My heart wanting the release and acceptance to love
(and be loved);
My mind wanting the freedom to not feel,
The choice to choose, full of reluctance.
I would pull apart my chest
To only try and hold onto that
blissfully ignorant
Hopeful heart of mine
And give it to you.
It belonged to you anyway.
If only it could mean something.