Raw Heart

Raw heart.


That’s how I was born.

My heart was created raw,





Our hearts,

From our first breath,

Cascaded into the world

And the world cascaded back.

Open to every touch and sensation, every beat expanded us outward.



Like sunlight on our raw hearts.


Sunlight burns as well as warms.





Tiny cuts and gaping wounds.


At some point I began to make my armor.

Carefully (though unconsciously) crafted,

Soft and supple as fine leather,

A case to stop the wounds

And hold in the warmth against a cold world.


Leather, over time, becomes stiff and inflexible.

That which holds in warmth also holds it out.


All unawares, I found my heart constricted by the armor of my making,

Wrapped and numb,

Barely able to beat.


Time to rip the cover off.

“Foolish,” I hear them say.

“An unprotected heart is doomed to pain and

The unexpected fatal blow.”

True enough.

I accept that.

A heart constricted will die as surely,

More slowly,

And perhaps more painfully.


I’d rather be a fool.


I want my raw heart.


20 thoughts on “Raw Heart

  1. I know this feeling! Only I am stuck between wanting to tear it off and being too afraid to do it! Great writing my friend!

  2. Beautiful poetry Bro. I do wish too that I retained my raw heart for childood. When you can be happy with the simplest of things, and that innocense is an innate nature, so are honesty, humily, love and generosity. The world would be a better place is only everyone will go back and remember what a true raw and sincere heart means.

  3. This is a great poem, I really can relate to it. It is amazing how we rebuild this armour over and over and that the tearing off is such repetitious process. If only I could live victoriously in Christ in my own vulnereability.

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