My heart might not be shaped how you’re used to but at least I still got it. You look for parts of me in crowded rooms that make you feel uncomfortable. Feel like everyone’s watching so you look for my shadow- your favorite hiding spot. Doors slamming back in your face because you pried them open, gentle hands- who knew you had such strength. Saltwater stings your baby skin. You’re clawing at the seams- trying to find that version of me. You asked what changed. I tell you pieces of a story I’m still writing and I can’t make up a plot just to make you feel better about killing off characters that were never yours to have. I’ve got my story and you’ve got yours. I’ve got the pages and I’ll rewrite the versions of myself however I see fit. I’ve got a heart. -AMT©️