My Exposed Heart

And in my dream last night I chose to act on my inflamed shame permanently
and wanted to depict each illustration to those I cared for before they chose to leave
on the left side of my left arm I tattooed blood red a raw heart on my sleeve
but I took too long and those who stood there walked away before I could explain what I intended it to mean
on my wrist laid another, but I forget the details and what the printed letters said
this tattoo had already begun in my dream to smear and fade, and all the colors bled
but not my open heart and what it exemplified in its tender hue of red


well it personified and epitomized a fact of me I prided to no longer hide day nor night
it was no beautiful art but a simple portrayal bearing a holster for a knife
a saturated heart outlined and fastened with that of a vacant sheath
no blade inside meant no weapon held to protect what gleamed underneath