Sunday, January 14, 2018

My Tiny Heart

Dirty tear streaked face; sticks in her hair.
My Tiny Heart lives in a cave.
She loves food and eats with her hands.
She digs holes in the dirt to bury her feet.
When she is alone she dances.
When she is not, she watches.

My Tiny Heart speaks in sounds
A quiet hum of a tune you must stretch your ears to hear.

She will smile so brightly when you tell her she is smart.
Or pretty.
Or that you caught her dancing and it made you want to dance too.

And on the turn of a moment
She will push you out of the cave door.
Chase you out with ash and rocks.
Run into the dark until all you can
see are two wide eyes that never blink.

She’d claw off her own skin
right down to the bone
to find the flaw she knows must be buried there.

I wait, and pretend I do not see her there hiding in the cave dark.
I leave her warm blankets
And soft hugs wrapped in pretty paper.
I hum every happy song I can think of
And when she screams I hold her in my arms until
the rage, and fear, and loneliness is tired out of her.

My Tiny Heart
Child heart.
Overflowing emotional wild heart.
Does not know how to ask for what she wants.

I tell her I will not leave her.
I tell her she is as beautiful when she screams
as she is when she dances.

- Joie Grandbois, 2018

No comments:

Post a Comment