When you emerge from life,
A woman whose heart has been
Ripped out of her chest
A few times;
Ripped and restored with care
Fingers dripping with the remnants of
Hurt and sinew,
When you’ve done this a few times,
Allowed the lovers hand to reach in and rip it out,
To replace and wait until wounds have healed,
Then you wake up to realise
That the ripping out
Has helped to reveal a real heart
And the restorations have made you whole.
I think back to the first man
To rip my heart out from my throat …
And when I gagged on the blood and fear,
Only then did I see the fear in his eyes
Were an image of my own
And I saw that the heart he was taking was his to take.
And a small pulse beating inside showed me,
that left behind was my own. Whole. Alone.