Pouring Out My Heart

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    Pouring Out My Heart

    When I was a child,
    A wall built up around my heart.
    A sturdy wall; a high wall,
    A prison of pain.
    My father
    The bastard.
    Fastened that wall with his bare hands.
    Brick and blood mix well
    They are hard to break.
    Then you came.
    My heart expanded,
    Tempting that ill thing...
    That horrible brick structure
    Inside of me.
    When you kissed me,
    The wall caved in.
    My heart grew; my capacity to love became
    unmeasurable.
    You complete me. You melt me.
    Every touch quivers me,
    The new vulnerable me.
    The soft, touchable me.
    I love you.
    You broke my wall,
    But not my heart.
    I love you.

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    If I feel physically as if the top of my head were taken off, I know that is poetry.

    Emily Dickinson (1830-1886) American poet.

    Arianna’s Poems (1)

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