I used to sew my heart on the sleeve of my sweaters
Even though I had to close my eyes
I was afraid of needles
Heart on my sleeves
It made a nice accessory to the bracelets adorning my wrists
Additional protection to keep them safe from my numb hands
That still insist on absentmindedly wandering over areas I once traced with blades
I sewed my heart on every morning
Till it was nicked by a passing lover on his way out the door
On the eve of a new year
An exit stage left, highlighted by fireworks and dampened by booze
I carried on, too enamored with the toothy smile sliding up my face in the mirror
Whiskey colored my cheeks and brightened my eyes
Burning away tears before they could think to emerge
Forgot I was bleeding out
My heart paled, streaking red to pink
I thought my lightheaded-ness was a result of the cancerous butterflies metastasizing throughout my body
Bored of tickling my stomach lining
I never considered the symptoms of blood loss
Too many feathery wings and antennae were pollinating the synapses of my brain with dopamine
I failed to realize their legs had been dipped in stomach acid
It made my head hurt
Blurring red filtering my vision
Reminiscent of the rosy spectacles of childhood scotch-taped round my head by my father
For the days when I played hopscotch with shadows and didn't chase after sunsets
Their darkness smudged powdery chalk grains smeared on my pants
At 22, I still find the remnants of that chalk still clinging
I rub the colors along my cheekbones
Not for war paint but to make paint whenever ghosting tears make the colors run
Use the vestiges of these colors to hide the circles ringing my eyes
The shadows now find they like hiding in them
They've moved on to playing hide and seek with my probing fingers.
The contrast in colors is stark
It was only recently I finally looked down at my heart
Perfectly deflated
I tried to sprinkle chalk dust on it to bring color back into its veins and arteries,
Patting and pinching it back into shape
I snipped away threads of my sleeve
Cradling it till I found a mason jar where I could hide it away--
I have to admit I forgot about it
Weeks sprouted wings, flying by till a new city ran through my veins in a new year
I came back sorry
And had to slowly coax it out from the jar
The raised lines on my heart made my breath hitch with guilt
For leaving it so exposed
But as I looked down, it peeped out from between my fingertips and over my thumb
Abruptly leaping up,
Dancing along pressure points to settle back over my wrist
Beating hard as I looked up to see the bartender back again, leaning in and grinning
Refusing to let go of my hand.