"Rupture"
You want
the softest spot
in my left ventricle
opened,
the gentle gathering of
tendons on my wrist,
severed.
You press your fingers
into my edges,
crack them open
like a surgeon,
peer inside,
eat and toss
my nakedness,
leave a heel mark
as you turn.
How cruel,
when the perforation
has already occurred,
when my
accumulation
of love
has already
begun
to
spill
through
the
rupture.
"Rupture" first published in Hoosier Lit
Notes: This poem emerged from a moment of vulnerability when I first began putting my work into the world for consideration by readers and editors. I needed to reconcile feeling so open and exposed with voluntarily risking rejection and indifference.
I am learning, of course, that my only job is to write and to send the work out. Instead of worrying about outcomes, I must trust that the work will find its way if it's meant to.