Iron Heart

I have made myself an iron heart,
welded by the sweat of my sufferings,
pushed and squeezed into a metal armour,
protected from everything, unable to be damaged.

Still I can feel it aching
from within its metal casing, it wheeps.
It is exhausted, over heated, pain oozes
from where metal meets metal.

I am not bullet proof.
The protection I thought I was putting on my heart
resulted being as paper against the projectiles,
the attacks attemted on it.

I am fragile glass.
Vulnerable to everything, breakable, unstable
not safe from anything, not protected by anything
I am not strong enough to withstand a blow.

I have made myself an iron heart,
I built it to be undamageable, to last forever
to be strong enough for me not to get hurt,
to not love because loving causes pain.

I don’t want to love, to cry, to feel.
I isolated my heart and hid it away,
I enslaved it under an iron mask;
Still I feel it aching, crying inside my chest.


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