Exposed

I live with my heart on the outside of my body. Constantly exposed, raw and vulnerable.

So I build walls. I use those walls to keep people out, to insulate my heart, to keep me safe. The walls keep me from feeling more then I can bear.

They allow me to pretend that I can't see the pain and sorrow of the world. They separate me, just a little, from the anger and the fear. And we're all much more comfortable if I accept your lies as truth. Those lies you tell yourself and the world until you believe them. I don't want to see your hidden truth.  I don't want to look beyond the surface.

So I build walls to protect myself. I nod and smile when you tell me your untruths.  I keep you as far from my heart as possible. Because if you don't have the strength to confront your own truth you certainly don't have the strength to hold the space for my truth. If you have to hide from your own emotions, you do not have the courage to sit with mine. 

I hide behind my walls and pretend that I don't see you.

Until somehow there's a crack.  I let down my guard. I love more then the walls can contain.

It's like standing naked in a storm. Thunder and lightning, wind and rain. Every sense bombarded. Nerve endings screaming.  

Too much, too soon, too fast.

Not safe. 

It hurts me.

It hurts so bad.

I cringe and I cower. I run and hide.  I tell my own lies. Whatever I need to do to make the pain stop.

I push people away. I shut them out.

Then I rebuild the walls around my heart. I don't want to see you.  I don't want to hear you.  More then anything, I don't want to feel you inside of me.

I live with my heart on the outside of my body. Constantly exposed,  raw and vulnerable.