My threadbare heart

In the dark
I confess to you
All the things I was afraid to say for so long
Knowing you knew
You wondered why I kept them
Balled as tightly as a poppy before the bloom
But I wasn't ready
Petals spilling wide and bright vermillion
My center a soft, velvet black


I miss my sluggish February blood
Coursing patience through me
Cold and meandering
Forcing stillness in my body
Now waiting is a death sentence
The question of when a gnawing ache
In my depths


Patience may be a virtue
But I'm not one for piety
My virtue a wasted word
Stale on the tongue before it leaves
Yet I still pray
Please let this time
And my tears
Be worth it
Don't let my threadbare heart
Wear fresh holes in itself
Or me be left to linger
Sun-bleaching and frayed on the line


For I know
We are
Falling asleep with a shared book
Curry and ice cream and
Words so kind
They spill over the edges of us
Staining everything a perfect blue
And I want it more than anything that came before