I am told sometimes
By those few
closest to me
That I appear
unfeeling
It goes from
accepted joke
to truthful criticism
And I disagree
Cynical maybe but
not
Defeated by any of
them
I remain unbroken
by the rocks crashing
At my sides
Nor taken by the
saltwater
Not harsh or
inhuman
Although the humans
– well…
But still not cold
Quite the opposite
in fact
My heart
This heart I feel
beating
Now in my chest
Is a raw nerve
An open wound
It is a raging
campfire
Burning through a
rainstorm
And it must remain
lit
Otherwise I look
around and
This
All of this
Will dampen it to
ash.