Layers of Life

Behind a layer of stone,
my heart pulsates.

Barbed wire twisted and turned,
in chaotic fashion,
surrounds this mass.

Yet only one wire penetrates,
the layers of stone, tissue, blood,
stopping at the center,
from which life leaks,
to the rhythm of the throbbing pain.

On the surface are visible cracks,
to which the blood rushes,
in an attempt to fill and heal.

The bumpy layer of scar tissue grows,
increasing the size of this organ,
adding more protection,
making it thick, hard, and less penetrable.

I am not a lover of love,
for I despise being vulnerable.

I am not a lover of hate,
for it devours this life sustaining organ.

Infection circulates throughout my being,
it muddies the soul.

May 31, 2008