Heart In A Box

I kept my heart in a box, safe from the world.

Every now and again I would carefully lift the lid to the box

and there is sat pulsing slowly with each beat.

I would sometimes sit and stare at it

contemplating giving it away.

But I always thought better of it,

quickly closing the lid and stashing it on the shelf

where I kept it.

Many people came and asked me for my heart.

And I would always respond with a laugh,

a toss of the head,

and a hasty retreat.

Then I met someone different.

He never asked for my heart

but I found myself taking it out more often.

The visits to my heart became more and more frequent

until one day, I presented it to him.

Cautiously, I lifted the lid to the box that held my heart,

reached inside,

and gently lifted it out.

With my hand outstretched to him, I offered it,

a bit apprehensively as I didn't want it hurt.

I watched as he took it and gingerly caressed it.

It was a wonderful feeling 
and a most unexpected thing happened...

it took flight.

Staying close to him,

like it knew where it belonged.

Days went by and each day he held my heart gently,

stroked it,

kissed it

and little by little I relaxed, 

feeling that my heart was safe and protected by him.

As a matter of fact, 

the beat of my heart quickened and became stronger

in his care.

Then one day,

he dropped it.

I thought surely it was accidental,

and I reached out to catch it 

but it was out of reach.

I watched as it crashed to the floor

knowing it would be bruised.

What happened next,

was so unexpected.

As I watched in horror,

He stepped on my heart.

The one I trusted,

the one I believed in,

the one that I gave my most prized possesion

placed it under his foot.

The blood oozing from my heart,

I cried out to him,

"please stop, it is all I have!"

My heart then broke

into many tiny pieces.

It shattered there on the floor

under his step.

I cried as I fell to my knees scooping up the pieces.

I ran to my box, 

having to stand high on my tip-toes to reach it.

I gathered the broken pieces

attempting to put it back together.

I looked at my handiwork....

there were so many pieces missing

and the beat was so soft,

so faint.

Once returned to the safety of the box,

I gazed at it barely beating

and I vowed that would be the last time

I would offer it to anyone. 

I placed the lid back on the box

tapping it into place, 

then tacked it closed.

This time I wouldn't take any chances....

I would secure the lid

never to be removed again.

My heart in flight

will remain a memory.

Maybe it was all just a dream,

maybe he was never tender and kind

maybe that is just what I wanted to see.

All I really am certain of now,

is that my heart is safe.

Up on the shelf,

in the box.