A heart of flesh
is a dangerous thing
because it causes so much pain.
How much easier I always find it to be
to live with a heart of stone
inside of me.
Because a stone does not feel.
Because a stone has no need to heal.
Instead, it just chips away,
weathered and ripped apart
by the wind and the rain.
And flesh is just so weak,
able to be stabbedtornbroken
by the hands of man.
And it hurts so much to feel,
because every piece that breaks
causes so much ache.
So the temptation is so strong
to be a stone that rolls along
But that life is not for me,
not since I looked at that tree.
And that life is not for me,
because even through the pain
a heart of flesh can find joy in the rain.
One thought on “A Heart of Flesh”
Reblogged this on Jared Abraham and commented:
One of my recent poems from The Sieve and the Sand.