There is something happening in the middle of my rib cage. It drums and drums to the rhythm of a mystic beat that sometimes doesn’t sound familiar to me. This liveliness scares me sometimes, and I am left vulnerable but powerful to the entity that shows itself. I reach out to you. I reach out hard, and long, and fast. And I reach out because dear you, please don’t hurt me. Dear you, when you hold this connection like a tentative little baby bird, ever so slightly vibrating in your hands. Its fragile heart beating so fast, so afraid, yet so lovely and vibrant.
Because dear you, the one who holds me at a distance, with walls impenetrable and large, looming and dark. If I were a bird, would you let me fly, still tethered to your beating heart so that there will always be a safe haven when I am to return? If I were a river, would you be the ocean that holds me accountable to the streams that drift apart from you? Will you still be a part of me? If I were a corpse, would you be the last breath I took before I bid farewell? Dear you, the slight and delicate beat that drums to the rhythm of my every need.
Because dear you, hold it true, hold it well, hold it fast and strong. I am not as threatening or as huge as my frail arms do pretend. I am delicate, and practically lifeless. Because dear you, please don’t hurt me. I belong to you.