I was afraid of being wounded by love,
if I love too much, if I care too much,
it will be fatal to be abandoned again.
I was afraid not to be chosen.
I was afraid to be left behind,
and in my fear and denial,
I was leaving myself behind,
by not embracing who I was.
Then someone left me behind.
I was deeply wounded, trapped in despair.
I took a scalpel to my own heart,
and cut it straight out of my chest,
then put it under a microscope.
It was a neat process to see,
old wounds still ripe and
new wounds gushing out in agony.
It was never meant to be this way,
I was much more than fear,
and time heals all wounds sounds like a lie,
on day 1 in pain but by day 400,
it reaffirms itself as the ultimate truth,
if you indeed let time heal you.
I kept my heart in a jar for months,
tending to every scratch and laceration
until it started to look like a healthy heart again.
Then, I stitched it back into myself where I belong.