Heartstrings

 

One morning, 

when the feeling inside my chest 

became 

too uncomfortable 

and

too much to bear,

I punched my fist 

into the center of my sternum 

and reached around 

until I could pull out what 

was troubling me. 

In my fist 

there was my heart 

with hundreds of strings floating out of it. 

They were jabbing at the air,

stretching anxiously,

trying to connect 

to something 

that it couldn’t 

reach. 

I took my other hand 

and placed it around my heartstrings,

gently cupping them, 

trying to smooth them

down 

and back

into place

to no avail. 

They kept waving, 

relentlessly,

cutting through my fingers,

constantly, 

in search of something 

that it may never 

connect with 

again.