How happy are the blameless vestal's lot.

This fist sized organ protected by my ribcage, fiercely guarded by logic and eternally swimming in passion charged emotions. My heart has been used and abused, stabbed, ruptured and slowly torn into shreds. My heart has been taped, glued, stapled and put together slowly by the bandage of time.

My heart loves and hurt. It ravages the inside of me and plays with my mind, send chills down my spine and introduces butterflies into my gut. This whirlwind ride has been exciting but also a tiring one.

Just the other night, in my slight inebriation, i uttered… I don’t like letting people into my heart, they always end up breaking me.

That split second, i bit my tongue, turned my back and cast a vacant stare towards the yogurt in the frigid shelf.

I am a strong believer of letting go of past baggage, there is no point in carrying a heavy load where ever you should go or destined to reach. Unknowingly, bits of it are still stuck on me, like lint.

Should i waver, i catch myself before i fall and should i fall, i’ll fall in a place where you can’t see me. I don’t want anyone catching me because then, they can let go as well, no? After giving you that glimmer of hope, they choose to go, or they get distracted along the way.

A friend told me that whatever he gives you, he can take away but as the dead songbird goes, you can’t take away my dignity.

Years and rambles go by, I am still whole and a lot more happier than before, to be honest. 

To my surprise.