Happy Valentine's Day to All the Naked Hearts

For people like us, who wear our hearts on our sleeves, life is a little harder.

We weren't born with any emotional armor

We are exposed. 

We don't know how else to exist but like this,

With our naked hearts.

For us, we exist to love. 

We follow our hearts into battle, not because we are brave or stupid, but because we are our hearts. 

We experience life through our feelings, so when our feelings enter the war zone of love, we have no choice but to follow. 

Trying to stay behind is futile for

What are we without our big hearts but a shell, 

Hollow, 

Empty. 

And how can we protect ourselves?

We are vulnerable. 

We look at someone and we tell ourselves to keep our distance. 

But like a magnet drawing us close, we are beyond control.

We tell ourselves we'll stay strong. 

But when our muscles shake and our knees buckle, what choice do we have?

Once we've entered the field of battle every word is the stroke of a sword, and every smile is an overhead blow. 

And we were left armorless to die.

We try to slip through the crowd undetected, 

Or we lay still pretending we're dead. 

We may be hurt and bleeding, unable to lift our heads or our arms from exhaustion or pain, 

But still eventually our bruises heal and our bleeding stops. 

Sometimes we may scar, and our scarring is like an armor. 

Thick and grotesque, it protects us for a while. 

But scars fade and so too does our protection. 

Are we like a videogame character, unable to die, 

Destined to live death after death?

When at last someone takes our heart into their hands, and protects it for us, then are we safe?

Is this is the only way we are safe, when another has control of our heart?

But what then, if we are betrayed? 

If our protector is wounded?

 If our heart is taken away from us and we are left with none? 

Then at last can we live free of our love that drives us forward, exposed and naked?

Without our hearts we are nothing. 

Either we change or we seek until we at last have recovered our hearts

And are free to die again.

When you are like us, and your heart leads you, you are defenseless.

Be kind to we naked hearts, for once we are cut, we never really stop bleeding.