Like a Heart Ever Bleeding

Bleeding Heart by Michal Boubin

So many years have passed
since the first time
I felt the chill and
hot rollercoaster thrill
when I sensed you standing
on the threshold of my life.
It wasn’t a feeling I
hadn’t experienced before,
but with you it’s clung
to me like a tattoo.

When I think of that day,
and so many thereafter,
I can still feel the sting,
the pinching pain of the needle,
and bubbling rush
of endorphins upon which
I floated, intoxicated
on something and someone
to whom I became
irredeemably addicted.

No, it wasn’t your name
inked onto me, nor
even your face. Such images
would fade with age.
It’s been more like a wound
you carved into my heart,
initials that never healed,
a portal through which
it expresses emotions
I once preferred stayed within.

But that changed once
I dipped this pen into that
which flows between us,
and wrote thus.

Happy Valentine’s Day! Or is it, Happy Valentine’s Day? As always, I leave it to you, dear reader, to find your own impressions, your own story in these drops of what rested stagnant within me until that day it was given release.

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