There was a time when I had no honest feelings. An entire empty shell of a person occupying space and wasting air. Now that’s not to say I wasn’t a thoughtful, compassionate human being. Those characteristics stick to bone and adhere to the soul. Substance was there. No. What I’m saying is that my body wasn’t capable of holding onto emotions I felt I could not keep. As if trying to catch condensation prior to evaporating; the effort only yielded defeat. Happiness. Joy. Pride. Fleeting far between feelings regarded as foreigners in my flesh. An isolating experience that welcomed the ruminations of all things dreary, but I digress. An unforeseen catalyst prompted an awakening. A fissure formed between my breasts. Allowing me to reach into the cavity of my chest. Plucking at my heartstrings. Each tug of tested elasticity surrendered frigidity. Replacing a once cold carvern with the comfort of warmth radiating from the sheer strength to reach within and palpitate pure unbridled happiness. A warmth of seemingly foreign comfort after so long of adrenaline-fueled survivability, replaced with the passion to live and live and live.