The Truth

I try to keep my heart
Away, hidden, folded, and tucked
Neatly in a mental desk drawer,
Far from my thoughts, my soul.

But, on days like these,
Where the burning world hurts our ears
And the weather scorches skin,
I can’t help it: pulling it out, stealing a glance.

A flash. An image. A soft rounded red shape.
With smooth scares almost healed from past storms,
Lost friendships and unforgettable broken love.

And while I look, your voice soothes it, yet makes it bleed,
As you, your eyes, your soul, are leaving, and my heart,
Keeps screaming the truth: when you leave, I’ll die.