If your hand could reach inside my heart,

What would you do with it?

Would you rip it to pieces?

Leaving me alone.

Broken on the bathroom floor.

Sobbing until my lungs collapse.

And my legs go numb.

A wreck with blood.

Left to spoil.

Like the milk you promised you’d drink.

That you wouldn’t abandon.

Would you pick at it?

Question by question.

Word by word.

Like the petals of a flower.

Of a child playing:

“Love me, love me not”

Until non of it is left

But a small part of me.

To only Love you not.

Would you protect it?

Hold it in your hands.

Never letting go.

Cherish it like no other.

Until it fully becomes yours.

A connection.

That will last forever.

And all time will slow.

Even your ticking clock that runs for miles.

Or would you do none of that?

Take it in your hands.

To just Look at it.

To then put it back.

Turn the other way.

And act like you never had it.

That you weren’t the one who asked for it.

You just wanted to look.

But have nothing to do with it.

So spare my heart

Should I leave it up to you?