My Broken…..Heart?

A weight in my chest.

The very center of my torso

Above the stomach where butterflies take flight

Close to the sternum

Below that place where anxiety quietly grasps. Heart pounding, breaths heaving, muscles tightened in preparation for fight or flight.

The weight pulls me

Just a little bit lower

Body and………..a soul?

There is an ache that I cannot quite place

It feels a bit like sadness but also like a memory

Of something broken?

Or lost?

Or both?

The ache is incessant

My eyes tear up while this jumble of feelings comes almost to the surface

Like an old heartbreak remembered late at night

A loss

A death

Grief

A depthless sorrow

The source of which remains…

Hidden

In quiet, dark, dusty spaces

In cracks in the wall or floor

The dark corner of a closet

I cannot face it nor can I escape it

I cannot identify it

A ghost

Or spirit

A shadow

Vanishing as soon as I glance it’s way

It is a curiosity of sorts

Even when I think it could consume me

Even when it seems the pain will eclipse the light

I wonder

Is this who I am

In whole or in part

Me and my broken heart.

Published by E or Ms. Lioness

Poet, survivor and thriver. Neurodivergent and not afraid to show it. Mental health advocate, trauma survivor, Dx: Depression, anxiety, panic, C-PTSD, ADHD and there is a very strong change I reside within a spectrum you may have heard of…. I accept that there is darkness in me. I accept that when you have experienced trauma, for much of your life, there is no escaping your dark side. I choose to be mostly good and I accept that the good and bad is all mine.

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