i need to slow down. my heart is wide open, locks off, and guards off-duty. all as a result of your simple progression. i still don’t know if you see me, truly want me. but here i am, ready to give you my heart, expecting you to protect it, keep it safe in your palms. that’s not what you asked for, and thats far less than i deserve. it’s fun, watching you dust off your heart, for so long it lay grey and molded in your chest. joyous i even become, watching the chains and shackles fall to your feet as you remove them one by one, with the help of my nurturing hands. but not once have you reached to the center of my chest with the intent to mend, to warm or encourage, all the while both my palms have been busy warming, soothing, and drawing your heart back to life. i know all of this talk of hearts is cliche. but it’s much more than a metaphor. i don’t mind stumbling over the beauty of your words, the pit of my stomach dropping at the sound of your voice, or falling victim to the sweet brush of your lips on my skin. i just want to place my heart back into my chest, build a wall, not too high or too thick, but effective; and lather this gapping hole in my chest, with honey and a love only i can manifest. until you, or someone greater, comes along and can see it, free it without causing such massive wounds. i need to slow down, create the right pace. for me.