how does it feel to have your heart break in every possible direction, every time you approach that which you love
to be told to move
to get out
to quiet down
that you’re not permitted here
how does it feel to have your heart break because you’ve found what you love
you were born with it, even
it’s right in front of you
but when you reach out to touch it
your fingers are warmed
and still, someone whisks it away from you
how does it feel to have your heart break
because fences loom
and tall iron gates stand tall
in front of that which you love
how does it feel to see
others
caress, approach, gaze and bask in
that which your heart seeks
others, dismiss it, standing in its womb
aware of the shadows, blinded and oblivious to the light
unable to open their hands and embrace it
but standing in its midst
in the middle, pointing a finger
tell you that you can’t come in
it’s not time for you to enter
it probably never will be
the right time
how does it feel to have your heart break
every time you walk past
the fences and chains that keep you away
to see your sisters stand at arm’s length
joyfully stroking their metal chains
comparing tones of brass and steel
excited that it looks like
a pretty
fashion accessory
without noticing
the red marks that lay underneath
that glow at you like bright electronic phosphorescent markers
the light bringing up your own, pale scars
once faded, they show up in the light
reminding you of what was
what you want to be
what can never be
what others prefer to be
how does it feel to have your heart break in so many ways
every moment, every gesture, every word, every ritual
a sip of wine
a tug at a hem
a smirk and a laugh
an admonishing stare
a disapproving glance
a clueless comment
a finger pointed at a page number
a set of pursed lips emitting shhh
a closed curtain
a slap from a pair of wayward flying tzitzit, moving past you once again
a voice that gets louder and louder
trying to drown out your own voice
a laugh of condescension
a look of derision
a motion towards a body part
a hand raised towards a mouth
asking you to be silent
even as others
speak
sing
and pray
this is how a heart breaks
when a heart wants to pray
this is how a heart breaks
when a heart wants to love
this is how a heart breaks
when a heart wants to live
basking in the glory of the divine
the divine that is a container for so much more power
than can ever be imagined, it’s sublime
and even when the containers are no longer holding the light
and are broken and battered and bruised
there’s so much golden beauty in the shattered vessel
the Tupperware of the soul
that all it takes is to cling to a tiny part of it
hold on to it and refill it
but those who hold on to it keep the supplies under lock and key
the superglue and the duct tape
and every single shard
you can’t touch, you can’t taste
so you buy a potter’s wheel
and build and spin and create
the clay is freshly set
the kiln is heating
the vessels are moulding
the light is shining
she’s smiling, her face is so bright
she’s the light that she’s been shining into the night
and so happy to finally just be
at home in her own space, her place,
the shechinah comfort inn, grand exotic hotel
except next door
the shards
the brokenness
still there
others stand over them
trying to glue them together
each time you touch one
your fingers burn
tentacles sprout
dark scars form from bleeding blisters
get out of the warzone
pieces of metal, burning rubber
but you can’t get away
what’s here is
love
how does it feel for a heart to break
and the pieces stepped on, bit by bit
by others who say, your heart isn’t broken
look.
right here.
see?
it doesn’t hurt
you gotta get better, fitter, girl
stop letting it hurt so much
it is the way it is
let them be
no need to ask for more
this is the way
it was predetermined from the
day
NO, NO IT’S NOT
it’s not how it’s supposed to be
I want to be me
and so my family
how can we be
me
and we
broken
battered
from the old shards
we build the new pots
we don’t try to fix them to what they were
but they still break
every day they break
maybe they’re stronger now
with the magic balm
stronger than super glue
the love
I don’t know
I can’t feel it yet
just feel
broken
broken
broken
denied
unable to enter
I used to look at the nightclubs on 11th avenue with the long velvet ropes and wonder what it took to get inside
but I never really felt like I was being denied
because it wasn’t my scene and I was more than happy to abide
by the fact that I wasn’t going to sit around tables and drink champagne with strange men
it felt okay, somehow
because it wasn’t my place that I should feel upset
to not be included
in it
