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Pulling Heart Strings


by Briyahna Rice, literary editor


Do you know that my heart pounds every time we meet? 

Four of my five senses all but cease, and I’m able to feel your fingers, 

as your hands hold the still beating organ under close scrutiny.  

But try not to squeeze it too hard,

or dig your nails in, so as to create scars.

But of all the rules I can give you, this one’s the most important to me.

Whatever you do, don’t pull at my heart strings.

True relationships are distracting, but this is something more.

Whenever I’m near you, I’m shaken to the core, and I’m not who I was before.

I’m blind to everything, except for what’s in my line of sight.

That something would be you, as you hold my heart in a grip that’s iron tight.

The physical pain, doesn’t come close to the emotional aspect. Knowing something could happen at any given moment, and I don’t know when to expect it.

You’re here one minute, but you could be gone the next. Getting hit by a car, or killed by a broken neck.

Or maybe, you’ll end it all, once you’ve grown bored of me.

And all I know is that my heart is being handled so roughly it could bleed.

Do you know my heart pounds every time we meet?

Four of my five senses all but cease, and I’m able to feel your fingers ,as your hands hold the still beating heart under close scrutiny.

However none of that matters when I feel the strings on the inside being tugged in different directions. Up and down, left and right.
The most important rule I gave you, and it’s been broken. My heartstrings have been pulled, and my anguish which is too great, now remains unspoken.

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