The most beautiful thing
I saw today
was a baby’s laugh,
God in my presence,
and your eyes, ever smiling, staring at me with a look that brought back images of that child and God’s glory all in one.
The beauty of my heart is that it is so easily touched by love.
The tragedy of my heart is that it is so easily touched by love.
Three months ago I wouldn’t have cared. Three months ago, I lie. When did you see me and ask me how I was, look into my eyes and notice the pain I wouldn’t share, and try to soothe my soul?
Why didn’t I let you?
Because I can’t let people in.
I can’t share the pain and the heart, because then I want you to be a greater part of this life, and you don’t want to be.
I could have done it, could have let whatever was broken be shared, and potentially repaired by your craftsman hands, and slowly fallen deeper into admiration of you, but I would have gotten stuck.
Stuck in the love and wanting to be love and be a part of something, while you were just being kind.
So I share too much with strangers, but not enough, and then when friends come by I let the heart remain untouched.
True, is this true? How much is true…
I attempt to guard my heart from the inevitable fall, and I lose myself in the process.
Shutting myself off to the love, I curl up and cry.
Giving too much of myself and being rejected, I feel like I want the feeling heart to die.
So I lose and I lose, and I don’t know if I’ll win,
or if I’ll just fall and break my own heart again.