I search for an image, struggle to see it clearly.
At first I think it might be a peanut but it looks too malleable. Then, just for a moment, in the background, I see a river. But the river rushes past and there it is again, this soft amorphous blob. I breathe deep and zoom in and then I see it. It is a sponge, one of those natural sponges that you buy on the promenade on Spanish holidays. It is pale brown or goldish, with wibbly edges, like a cloud. It is full of holes.
I think about my heart full of holes and I see blood, spilling from pores. I cannot survive with a heart that is punctured in so many places. Plug up one hole and the blood will just divert and spill from another ruptured place. I can't cover them fast enough. Maybe I should stop trying.
It is absorbent though, this sponge heart of mine. It can hold a lot. It sucks up all the damp pain of the world and sits, sodden and heavy at the centre of things. It is a cushion full of tears.
I will cry until it is wrung out, until it is transformed, light and airy as the clouds where I see you now. Not all holes need to be repaired. Holes let in the sun. They let us breathe. There are cracks in everything. That's how the light gets in.
Tuesday, 19 April 2016
Day 16 - What is the condition of my heart?
I write for children, young people and adults. I write to process my feelings and to escape them. I write to help other people process their feelings or also to escape. In March 2016 my beloved partner died suddenly just 8 months into our relationship and now I write to remember him and to process my grief. You can contact me via my website: beverleywrites.co.uk or follow me on http://www.facebook.com/swimmingthroughclouds/
I also have a Soundcloud account with music to accompany my blog here;