"My heart is broken" I told the cardiologist.
On our first meeting.
Not in the romantic way, per say.
But actual physical trauma.
The strain of living that lie took it's toll.
Not just on my heart, but my soul.
Years of not being allowed to be me.
Swollen heart, otherwise diminished totally.
I would not have survived another year.
That much was clear.
Not another day could my heart endure.
It had grown too big for it's cavity.
You broke my heart but I broke free.
My cardiologist is pleased with me.
Still heart block but normal echo and ECG.
Now, I write poetry and sing my heart out.
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