Poem written on November 27, 2022. Outfit worn on January 11, 2023.
Bandaids on a Heart Torn Out of My Chest Alissa Ackerman Story Behind The Cloth fashion blog girly gothic witchy romantic outfit Heartbreak polyamory relationship depression love Quote

Disclaimer: The following poem as a whole does not represent my current relationships or their quality. It simply reflects my fears. Polyamory has been a wonderful, though challenging, adventure full of meaningful relationships that i treasure individually, and deeply. This poem encompasses difficult feelings that have come up in realizing i still have more healing to go through–and that i cannot rely on other people to do the healing work that only i am capable of giving myself. These same feelings would still be here to acknowledge and heal from, no matter what relationship structure. This is my wrestling with those fears, previous wounds, plus societal judgements, and the confusion all these together have at times created.

Bandaids on a Heart Torn Out of My Chest:

New lovers every week, not one considered best.
Bandaids on a heart torn out of my chest.

I strive to love each as though they’re the first and only one.
Loving as i always have, unsure of what’s to come.
I do not trust them not to leave.
So it’s not my heart upon my sleeve.
I love fully, but at a distance.
Collecting lovers to console my existence.
I no longer believe in the concept of The One,
To love many is safer, though easier said than done.
My heart still yearns for my first love…
The comfort he gave that i’m now void of.
My life is full of lovers, yet still, i’m alone.
Crowned in confusion and sitting on my throne.
Can i love deeply enough? I do not know.
My heart feels frigid, amid falling snow.
In their arms, i try to find rest.
But are they truly bandaids on a heart torn out of my chest?
My heart needs more to heal,
I barely let myself feel.
To give love is for the good of all,
But what do i do if i begin to fall?
I fear the torrent of the depths of desire
Setting my whole life into a blaze of fire.
Give only compassion, take no hope.
Why do i suppress in order to cope?
I have too much love to give but am afraid to receive…
Why’s love for me so hard to perceive?
I know i am worthy, but ask ‘will it last’?
Because the love i once was given shriveled up so fast.
If i give all my love, maybe the world will be better.
What if i could learn to love completely unfettered?
Loving myself must come first…
I’m done believing that makes me the worst.

I must restore my heart to where it belongs;
Back in my chest, even if that makes me long.

Feeling all i can and trusting my healing process.
I will not use bandaids on a heart torn out of my chest.

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