An Ode to the Heart

Hearts; trapped in rib caged prisons,
are often given out like candy on Halloween,bandaidheart
And are often returned bruised and purple.
Some learn to heal faster than others.
These are the dangerous ones
They  puff out their chests like a peacock
and walk around with the confidence of being invincible,
ready to be broken all over again.
They wear a shield of armour, each one stronger than the one before.
It’s these fixed ones you have to watch out for.
They run in to battle every time, regardless of the consequences.
And there are some hearts,
The ones who desperately try to avoid the super glue and hope
They’re like soldiers who return home from war,
And are asked to go back to fight after a month
They walk around, limping and shivering from PTSD
They don’t always learn to beat the same way again
They only heal once the war is completely over.
Once they know for sure they don’t have to fight another day.
Hearts are brave little things.
Give them room to heal and grow.
Give them a reason to keep beating.
 —————————————————————————————–
Yours truly,
Painted Shadow

 

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Corner of your heart

Something clicked in me the day you left. Something wise and forbidding to a young mind. It made me realise. It made me regret. It made me sour. Stone cold sour. Something clicked in me the day you didn’t say it back. Something raw. Something real. Something made of bones and dust. Something not expected. Something different. Something uncertain, it clicked that you and me, were not meant to be. It was dark. And old. Beaten up and over used like a dusty old rag.Except, it was us. We were just new. Barely touched.Barely used. Rarely taken out from the packing.No scratches, nothing.Yet, we faded. And dried like an orchid with no water. Our colour made us strong. But our breaths made us weak till we didn’t feel, till we couldn’t see. or taste. Our minds grew stronger but our hearts not so much wiser. But you’ll keep on dancing. Keep on twirling around. Faster and faster, till the world becomes a blur. Cause nothings easy. Nothing lasts.

”They are shooting stars-a spectacular moment of light in the heavens, a fleeting glimpse of eternity. And in a flash, they’re gone”

Yours truly,

Painted Shadow