Bound

The dark isn't always a bad place

Photo by Alexandru Acea on Unsplash

A heart on a sleeve

is bound to be bruised

or weathered

or broken

exposed





left to freeze

or burn in the sun

until it shrinks

And my heart





on my sleeve





open and beating





is bound

to feel the slightest knock

or sharpest edges





because it is bound

to its place





on my sleeve





so it will rust

its colour will bleach





but it is my heart





and it is bound





to want its time in the shade