The heart is an awful place to hide,
From the self,
From the thoughts,
From lost love,
And alienated emotions.
It is the wrong place to hide.
It is crowded with the ghosts of the past,
And the shivering fears of the future.
The heart is busy; it has work to do.
It pumps more than blood to the veins;
It pumps more than beats to the soul.
It pumps the pain back to the mind,
As memories, reminders, and warnings,
Reopening the wounds of the past with salt.
It will push you from one chamber to another;
As a cyclone breathing a storm,
There is no shelter there, no sanctuary.
The heart is too busy to hold your new secrets.
Your ghosts will hunt you there.
It is the wrong place to hide,
For if you do,
You only hurt yourself and others.
Do not hide in your heart.
But when you love,
You can take refuge in your lover’s heart.