hidden / displayed

On my hipbones.  In my ears.  Behind my knees.  Beneath my finger nails.  Between my shoulder blades.

I carry the kind of pain that only echoes through a broken heart.  It's in all the places no one can see.

In the arch of my left eyebrow.  The tang of my sarcasm.  The exaggerated swing of my hips.  The slow and steady beat of my step.

I throw the flagrant breeze of a cold heart.  It's in all the trophies on my display shelf.

You don't need to know that I've been hurt.  No one wants to hear that someone had the power to break me... more than one someone.  They don't need to see the damage they wrought.

So I emptied out the center of my chest.  Packed up my breakables and threw away the key.  

Empty means nothing can be broken.

Nothing broken means nothing to fear.

Fearless means keeping the power to myself.

It means the last person who broke me is the last person to break me.

So, there - just behind the blank stare, between the full lips, in the center of the warm palms.

I keep the unmendable heart that is no longer up for grabs.  

Pain is hidden.  Strength is displayed.  And, love is off limits.  

Yes, I have moments where I desperately miss looking up.  There are so many times when, even if the view was different, I'd give anything to tiptoe again.  Then I remember where that got me, and I arch my brow and settle down again.  

I have nothing to be scared of.  There's nothing left to steal.  All I have is on display, and you don't want any of that.