'A list poem on fixing a broken heart'

NaPoWriMo day 9: Prompt - 'A list poem on fixing a broken heart'

1. First of all, don’t. Don’t even try.

2. Second, lay out its pieces on the dining room table. Nibble at them. Bite, chew, swallow. Let your insides indulge in the true taste of you. Feel your heart finally work its way through a body that refuses to digest it. 

3. When your blood begins to seep through some small, weak, blind spot in your skin, stay away from the damn bandages. Let it dry and turn into a hard crust, like a river clinging to your arms, like over-the-top jewelry, like a guilty pleasure. Wear it messy and dirty, in all honesty. 

4. And if people on the street avert their eyes, know you did the right thing. People often look away from blinding truths - if the mirrors and the sun ever taught you anything.

5. Anyway, don’t buy into their bullshit. Don’t believe you must be brave, or strong, or even right. You must only be true. 

6. And if the truth is that you must lie upside down on your bed, listen to love songs that make too much sense, stare at a blank wall, stare into the mirror as the tears stream down your cheeks, stare into the face of the devil that’s breaking, through gritted teeth - then that’s what you must do. 

7. But remember to look fabulous when you go out. Remember to pick a good outfit, to spend too long choosing an earring, to wear bangles just to be loud, to run late simply for that extra coat of kajal and lipstick. You can grieve and still look absolutely beautiful as you’re doing it. 

8. Rewatch the Fleabag confession scene and eat strawberry ice-cream. Then try to act it out even though you don’t know how. And the next day, start reading Normal People again. Cope. Cope well.  

9. Throw yourself at the world with your fierce eyes and your sharply cut mouth. Believe in your power - even all alone. But do not forget how love softened your jagged edges, even though it cut itself in the process. Do not forget the gentleness you were taught and shared. Carry it everywhere.  

10. And bask in love - whatever’s left of it, what was once there, and what always will be.