Sleeves

I don’t wear my heart on my sleeve
– never have.

Instead, I keep it closely guarded.
Solitary, hidden.

For years, my sleeves were a hiding place,
not for my heart – but for secret hurts on skin,
written deeply.

But now, wearing what I like,
I hide my hurts next to my heart.
And though I think about them,
I’m trying my best not to feel.

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