That is a poetic sentiment that always sounded cheesy for a girl who didn’t know when love learned to shatter. And yet, why does my inexperienced heart clench and crumble at what my logical mind deems dispensable?
When a new face comes into my life for friendship, how is it my first instinct to hesitate and guard myself? Despite the warmth emanating from them, I seem to assume that inside lies a fire—warm to my hand but bound to burn my heart. Why does my forgiving heart still not forget the remnants of a friendship turned betrayal?
Each year, when I blow my candles and my family sings me praises of potential, how is it that I bite back my gratitude? Instead, I wonder how long it will take for their sweet nothings to circle back to the biting bullets I know—piercing my peace. Why does my safe heart still brace for the hits that are long blurry?
Walking on stage, basking in the glory as they bestow me honor— why is it that I wince at the echoes of their claps? Through the crowds, I still search for those shaking heads and disappointed stares. The gold accents of the laurels placed upon my neck should enlighten my intelligent mind to triumph. So why does my fulfilled heart search for signs for the fall after the climb?
The heart is forever traitorous and discards exceptions. What the logical mind distances you from, the heart stubbornly clings you to it anyway.
The forgiving heart reminds you to tread carefully and dodge the sting of pain through the remnants of friendship turned betrayal.
The safe heart beats to warn you against hits that may or may not come through the sore, slowly faded patches of purple on your skin.
The fulfilled heart watches for the signs of downfall to hurt you—long before the disillusion of others could.
The “stupider” part of your anatomy humbles you, on par with how the logical mind drives you to be better.
For the sake of you, the heart remembers what the mind forgets.
