by Rebekah Thomas

This is my heart

Still trying to beat

Thumbtacked to

Parched paper,

Extended to distortion

To occupy

The entire eight-and-a-half by eleven spread

And you ask me to share

This with you?

I try to pulse off

This page.

Bruising it purple and green.

My words funnel

Into your chasm as you

Borrow my fortitude.

My heart now exposed

To bright sunlight.

Never have I been

So afraid

Of being vulnerable.

Paper cuts

Hurt the worst.