I don’t want to live with my heavy heart anymore

Cut it out, tear it into pieces, give it to someone who can take care of it, because I can’t do it anymore

Or throw it on the ground – you don’t need to bury it, because it’s so heavy that

It

Will

Sink

On

Its

Own

 The heart is an alchemical entity,  a Philosopher Stone, an ever-changing element, never still and never the same. Look at it: in the dark night, in solitude and stillness it turns to a heavy boulder, grows pikes, and hurts itself with it, lies as a burden on the lungs,

And wants out.

In the bright sunshine it’s the sun itself: bright and light, spreading warmth and sense, embracing every little thing, and mirroring their light back multiplied by two,

And wanting out still.

In a cold room full of people, it grows to ice, unforgiving and cynical, growling like a scared dog, showing claws and teeth it never had,

In a warm kitchen with just few persons in grows fuzzy, white, and big, a gentle cat wanting to purr on someone’s lap,

Still wanting to get out.

It’s tied to my body way too tightly by the ropes way too fragile – bury the fingertips in my ribs and you will feel it, yearning for the touch

Yearning for the pain

And being afraid of it.

But sometimes – some really rare times, – it feels at home in me.

And sometimes the wild transformations hold on, and it’s suddenly becoming just what it needs to be: a living creature full of blood, vulnerable but strong, fragile but protected. A piece of the system, working with it together.

So God, give me the strength to keep this heart feeling at home.

Valeria