When I was a kid, I never knew I had a heart. Well, I knew I had a heart it just wasn't something I could feel until I was 12 years old. Walking home from school with a red pickup truck following slowly behind me. That was the first time I felt my heart the first time I knew it truly existed. It was beating so hard I felt like it was going to rip open my chest. Like it was going to pop out and just lay on the pavement beneath me. It was beating so loud it was all I could hear my heartbeat drowning out the words the man was yelling from his pickup. After that day I decided to ignore my heart that maybe just maybe it wasn't real. Maybe he didn't follow me home maybe my dad didn't come yelling out of the house. Maybe I was safe maybe walking to and from school should not be something I worried about. I tried to ignore my heart until yet again I was reminded that it exists. When a boy stuck his hand down my throat and pulled it out laid it on the table cut it in half put it in his back pocket and shoved the other half back. Ever since then I've been reminded that I have a heart. I've been reminded that it's not full. That the other half is still with him that the other half of me is still with him. Sometimes I lock my door turn off my fan and the lights and just listen to the little beats of heart I have left. I listen to it beat I try to thank it for all the times it protected me. But I don't think it wants to listen. I tried to apologize for all the times I silenced her for the way that boy rip it in half. But my heart keeps beating she keeps reminding me that I'm alive that there's a way for me to rebuild that other half that was viciously ripped from my being.
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The live's I've lived
PoesíaThis is a collection of poems and pieces of writing. That I have written over the last 2 years of my life. I've never been one to actually live. To take the risk. A lot of the things I have written are about things that have happened in my head. Or...
