if my heart could talk it would tell you it's tired. tired of always keeping itself protected from all the wounds it's gained throughout the years. tired of building up walls around walls to ward off any intruders trying to break them down. it would tell you it's not as strong as it shows itself to be and sometimes keeping beating is more than it can bear. it would tell you it doesn't want to be the one that's always making decisions. that sometimes following my mind is safer than following its instincts. it would tell you it's sorry for breaking and not being able to hold itself together all the time. it would tell you that it's not perfect and not fully whole yet. it would always tell you its lonely and sick of doing all the work alone. that's it's ready for someone, anyone, to come in and help carry the load.
but my heart can't talk unless my lips will speak to tell you these things. and fear of hurting again keeps me from revealing any of these things to you. so until the day my heart trusts again it must keep going. one beat at a time. one wall at a time. one wound to heal at a time. until the day it can tell you.