My Heart - By Anna McCarthy Hoffman

My Heart

If I were to release my heart
it would pour out my fingertips
running across the table into your lap
leaving drip marks on everything I touch
a misty, wet sheen blurring my vision
everywhere I look with dewy eyes,
sometimes a delicate fog,
evaporating in the heat of disappointment
other times frightening in its power to be vigilant
drowning and destroying anything in the way
sweeping the rest of the world behind me
in my wake
-Written by:  Anna McCarthy Hoffman
My poem may be published online as long as the author is given credit and a link is included to

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