Four Chambers, One Heart
by Kyrianne Stryker
If all the world's a stage,
my heart is the one
lurking
drifting
hiding
behind the curtain.
It has seen very few sleeves,
and it's become hardened
to heartbreak.
But somehow,
the shell surrounding its
beating
living
breathing
seems to be cracking,
exposing itself to the potential
lies
pain
rejection
but also the possible
truth
love
acceptance
as it lets out a tiny glimmer of hope.
Some believe in
Love at First Sight;
I find that notion ridiculous.
Love is something that grows first from
a seed
a spark
an inadvertent brush of the hand,
and then flourishes into
a blossoming tree,
fragile
yet sturdy,
bending in the sweet sighs of the wind.
---
I wrote this on a whim the other day, out of pure inspiration. Usually I'm not very good at writing poetry, but this really just wrote itself. I'm debating on whether or not to submit it to the school's literary arts magazine; it means a lot to me and I'm not sure if I want people to ask me about that, but I also feel like I should share it. What do you think I should do?
