I wear my heart around my neck, now. It was covered by my sleeve and caged within my ribs. Here, on a delicate silver chain, it can be seen. It can feel.
Here, it is vulnerable. Here, it can be cut. Bruised. Sliced. Torn. Battered. Beaten. Here, it can be destroyed.
Here, it can be healed. Here, it can breathe. Here, it can learn what it is to love. Here, it can live.
Somebody may grasp and rip it off its delicate silver chain, I am aware. I have no doubt that people will make efforts to destroy it, sometimes subconsciously. Somebody else may not, though. Somebody may mend it slowly, fragile piece by piece. I can now wrap my hands around it, beating, and breathe life into it. I can begin to feel again.