The Swallows and the Sunsets

My Heart

They told me to stop being stone. They told me to wear my heart on my sleeve so I embroidered three names on my sweater and called it good enough.

I'm only staying for them. Because I called her my sunrise, and I told the other she was my everything and I don't even know the youngest one yet.

I stopped ripping open my skin looking for my heart because I couldn't stomach the thought of them asking where those scars came from and either having to lie to their beautiful faces or tell them the truth through tears.

I stopped planning my time of death and started planning on times I could spend with each of them and how, because it might be my last.

I've seen all of them cry more times than I can count and each time a piece of my heart breaks off and I try gluing it to theirs so they would have more than enough to give away and keep for themselves. I remember their faces wet and stained with their tears when I think about my demise.

So I keep going.

My fingers trace over the embroidery on my left sleeve and I call it good enough.

That's the only part of my heart I'll give away to the world - because the rest of it went to them.