Heart on Her Sleeve

 Heart on Her Sleeve

It’s always right there.

It’s always been right there—

just where you found it,

right where you left it—

She knows of no other

way of wearing it—

Her heart on her sleeve.

 

It’s never been bottled up—

never withheld.

It’s never been hard to find

or difficult to understand.

Never sarcastic.

Rarely, if ever, hardened.

 

No, none of those things,

but it has been broken.

You can’t wear it on your sleeve

without ridicule or rejection.

It’s not invulnerable,

that’s for sure.

Just the opposite, it’s been crushed

by the weight of the world.

 

You see, she lets things get to her—

all the way to the deepest ‘her’.

She’s unbelievably affected by life,

people in particular.

Never has been good within boundaries,

she wore herself out day after day

putting her heart out there—

welcomed and spurned, both.

 

But sleeves are where hearts belong,

open and real, even raw,

willing to risk for love.

Permeable and malleable,

broken and spilled out,

just like Jesus. 

 

He wept, so she wept.

 

Her heart always on her sleeve.