Duct - Taped Heart

I sit in the dark, with my duct taped heart ,                                                        and a sign screaming ( NOT FOR SALE),                                                    my fingers covered in infinite paper cuts,                                                     hesitant to reach out; afraid of being met with pistols instead of poems.                   

I look to my left ,                                    and sure enough, there's someone on the swingset with me,                            we just stare at each other for what feels like eternity,                                        I tilt my head ; he looks like a forgotten memory ,                                                    he looks like poetry.

My mind screams caution,                    my duct taped heart tries to break free ; I coat another layer of tape onto it,          I guess you could call it force of habit, yet I reach out slowly,                            with my hesitant fingers covered in paper cuts,                                              and this time, they are met not with pistols, but poetry.

Without my knowledge and against my will,                                                            the layers of duct tape are slowly peeled away from my heart ,            while I stumbled upon comfort; while I laughed my heart out ,                              It felt like being let in on the inside joke evryone whispered about.

The layer of duct tape left on my heart now is one,                                             and soon enough, it'll be none,             my fingers are no longer covered in paper cuts; they healed long ago,         I'm no longer in the dark; I now bask in sunlight and watch the days go by so and so.