Origami Hearts

Crystallized tears
saltily lick the wounds
you painted on your limbs
in the days before you realized
you could not bend wind
or move thunder
or shake the earth
to oblivion.
You thought you were
an unwanted kind of beautiful
and you discovered
you don’t need water
to feel like
you are drowning.
You grew up wearing
your paper heart on your
favourite long-sleeved sweater,
and you avoided matches
with the ease in with you
breathed deeply.
Life was an ember,
and you found yourself
gulping smoke
and tasting ashes,
but once the dust settled
your sleeve was bare.
To have your heart consumed
in fiery passion
of suns and stars
and everything in between
is to live a blessed life
albeit, a short one.
The paper heart
you folded into poetry
and twisted
into foreign words,
the paper heart
that spelled out
secret desires
left unspoken.
And when life set
your origami heart aflame,
you cried
crystallized tears
and folded a new one
but this time
you didn’t wear it
on your sleeve.

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