Everyday garden-variety bleeding hearts …

A heart full of hurt

bleeds tears ’til

the leading edge of

that first shocking searing

wave of pain subsides.

Exquisite the martyr’s misery

and indulgent —

this sort of wound must be

carefully cosseted ’til full

effect be borne.

Savored.

Brazenly wallowed in.

Attention must be paid!

And then

the heart requires those true

words that start to

put things right.

Patience, please —

give chase and

warrens open in the underground

where it hides ’til it’s ready to

come out.

That heart.

Yours.

StichedupBrokenHeart

Image

An Anthem to Old Affinities

I was never what you wanted me to be ...
 your requirements were too cramped, my heart too wide,
 and my eyes would not un-see
 what you didn't know you'd showed me,
 so I sweetly held my tongue and played the game.

I could now explain and justify ... but why?
 Degradation is an IOU due no one, self-abasement ... 
     a crushing mortal sin.
 The choices have been made
 and life moves on.
 There's surely nothing helpful left to say.

I never hated you for what you didn't want to know,
 just wished your certainty extended outward.
 And yet ... what does it matter in the end ...
 for you are only you and I am I,
 as regrets and might-have-beens all fade to black.

Judy L. Smith
Copyright April 2013

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