Open

My heart has been broken.
On the floor in a million pieces. Broken.
And in those moments I thought the sharp, stinging pain was endless.
That the knife run through my heart would kill me, and
I would never be able to breathe again.
My heart has been abused.
Manipulated and taken for granted. Abused.
The darkness of insecurity held me, wrapped its cold arms around me.
Self-doubt crawled up my spine, worthlessness found
A place in my heart to call home. 
My heart has been broken, my heart has been abused.
A man, twisted and screwed up in ways I will never understand
Had the power to bring my spirit to its knees.
I let him take my heart, squeeze it so hard blood ran down his fingers,
My tears staining the earth at his feet.
This part of my life, long over, still lives in my memory.
I still recall helplessness, the word victim, secretly
Burned on my forehead.
I remember feeling like my heart was dying a slow death,
Like I was trapped, that the only love I deserved
Was the love that hurt...everywhere.
Certain things linger. 
The fear that no one can love me ever again.
That my allowance on love has been spent, no more extensions
To the loan, my savings completely depleted.
I worry someone will see through me. See the brokenness.
Turn away in horror from my mangled heart.
Except it's not mangled. 
I'm not broken. Not anymore.
In the dark moments, I found my strength. 
When I was my most broken, vulnerable,
I discovered I could still breathe.
After everything I'd gone through. Breathe.
And the real miracle was my heart,
Able to mend every breach, every tear.
There are scars. I used to worry they made me ugly.
Now I know they make me unique.
They tell my story and remind me of the road I can never travel again.
Every journey has brokenness. Every life has heartache.
But not everyone's journey remains open to footsteps. 

For me, I must be brave to stay open. 
Fear lingers but it does not stop me from 
giving my heart. Open.