How far do you stretch mine?


I question everything you do, everything you say; I am always unsure. I can never make up my mind.

I wonder what I am to you. Entertainment? A passing fantasy? A suggestion? Nothing?

I am obviously something.

You cannot take me under your wing all to abandon me.

You were never what I wanted. I wanted flawless liaison. I wanted perfection, but I settled for less. And less satisfies me beyond measure.

You caress me with such contemptible gentleness; your words spitting cold fire while your hands soothe over my doubts like water rinsing an open wound. A painfully painless mesh. So lukewarm that it feels fictitious. That absence of warmth makes me search for it.

It is always the same consecutive pattern. Love, hate, love. But which are you?

A tornado. Storm, peace, storm.

We are a chaos. You are the chaos. And you throw me into it.

I am in the eye of the storm. 


That one time you were violent – oh how the pain claws at me. I overstepped my boundaries, and you attacked like a lion awaiting its prey. You ripped me limb from limb. Rid me useless, emotionless; less.

The memory fades back. Laying on my back, pinned down. Unaware but aware. There but not there. Where am I?

Something is not registering correctly. I am somewhere else. I am with you, you are holding me gently, taking it slow. Here I do not feel pain, only happiness.

I come back numb.

You ripped me limb from limb. Rid me useless, emotionless; less. All my brain can do is deny, for my heart takes precedence over my mind. 

That moment when you revert back to love, my heart immediately does a 360. No matter how many times I am shut down, no matter what happened, with one motion, my love will kick start. 

I am so weak.

I am crazy.

Our hearts are like 2 magnets; your end turns away and mine rushes toward you, but when we are alike, we repel.

But now that you are facing me, pulling me towards you, so I must turn away before I am pushed away.

Oh why do only our opposites attract?

I am a fast car, a musical contraption, a sinner.

My heartstrings are my steering wheels, my instruments, my hope and salvation.

My heartstrings hold me together. Without them, I am nothing.

You are the master of my heartstrings; its sole driver, musician, and savior.

I am but a figurine, controlled by your emotions. You fiddle with my heartstrings, as if they are fascinating toys to play with. You treat me like a puppet and put on a show, with me as the lead. My heart is held on a leash. I am on display for everybody to see. You do as you see fit with me. 

Slender fingers plucking at my heartstrings; that is how you make music out of me. My voice mews for you, like a kitten yearning for milk. I’m thirsty for any form of love I can receive; moist, eager kisses; doing things I know will hurt me. Doing things that even God himself can never forgive. 

Pale. The stress grips at you. The anxiety discombobulated you. I understand the strain. I understand the inflicted pain; you never meant to hurt me. I will be anything you need me to be, your friend; your keeper.

I will even be your refueling station; my body is your pit stop.

They tell me you are not good for me. A ticking time bomb, an active grenade, my greatest sin. I am always bending backwards for you to ride atop me. But they don’t realize that I will do anything for you. You know I will not listen. I never listen. I need you. You need me. You grip me for support.

Oh, but what a callous grip. Even I have my limits. Your fingers are wrapped around my heartstrings the way you hold thick rope. Your fingers pry at me and spread me apart. The memory fades back. Fingers extended, nails embedded; clawing into my flesh. I cannot identify between pain and pleasure; it all feels the same. It all looks the same; which is why I am constantly falling into your broken arms. You hold me for but a moment, as if you can handle the weight. And it’s always just when I begin to relax that you give way, and I fall through and fall hard. Whenever I fall, I’m always the one who picks myself back up. The damage you did physically cannot compare to the damage you do emotionally. Your touch lingers, seeping into my arteries and making its way to my brain. But my reciprocating thoughts circulate back to my veins, and back to my heart. I am a constant confusion. Hot and cold; back and forth.

I hate you.

No, just kidding.

I love you.

But why did you hurt me?

Do you not love me?

I should just leave. 

Why do I stay?

“What does it matter?” You say.

I will probably just come back anyway.

I always do.


And the cycle repeats.

Love, hate, love.

Storm, peace, storm.



This is how you stretch mine.


Image: https://www.pinterest.com/pin/490329478150974746/

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2 thoughts on “Heartstrings

  1. Dear Timi,

    I am awed with your writing within this piece; it is nothing short of brilliance. I love how immediately you portrayed an innocence to the narrative and how loving the “I” within this narrative is. For how she wanted perfection and how “less satisfies (her) beyond measure.” There is no break within fluidity as you would often see when one is limited within their desires, but within this piece it was as if the girl wanted an ideal dream but touched the truth of love and it enraptured her.

    The contrast prevalent within this piece isn’t harsh at all but so soft that the “cold fire” and the word “painfully” almost meld into the warmth and gentleness that is also associated with this individual that harms her yet offers love. It’s as if I am experiencing the painful love that this girl is experiencing; I am embodying her emotion, and that is a timeless quality to your writing.

    This love is almost an addiction and a necessity that spontaneously gives as it does destroy the narrator. This piece breaks me for as the protagonist is abused, so beautifully are her wounds closed, so artfully, that its nothing short of manipulation that one can become ignorant to.

    But then you interfere with what I believe I have understood from your writing, because the narrator understands the extremities she is experiencing and accepts them because she accepts her love for how he is. She knows the wrongness associated with her actions, the ultimate sin. But he has enraptured her, and she has willingly given the control to him. I love how you say “I will be anything you need me to be, your friend; your keeper,” for their isn’t a desperation but a need to give to maintain the beauty of what is. This piece presents agony yet love in a way that it melds into one, and you can’t tell where one stops and the other ends.

    Loved the writing so much!!!


  2. Dear Timi,

    Love is a complex, pushing past all rationality and reasoning, for it’s like an intoxication one can’t get enough of. An elixir one takes blindly to only be poisoned by infatuation, however with side affects of pain, also brings feelings of hope and tenderness. When one loves, one tends to turn a blind eye to any forms of abuse, making excuses for the pain we, as humans, allow ourselves to endure. This piece beautifully exemplified such raw emotion and thought, I applaud you for writing with such honesty and respect for the truth.

    I loved how you wrote “emotion; less” it sparked my interest not only as a reader but as a writer to see the creative liberties you took within this piece. The one liners juxtaposing hate and love created a sense of interdependency “one for the other, one because of the other” which I sincerely connected with. I truly believe without love there is not hate- we hate because we love or loved.

    This piece conveyed a sense of “unconditional love” one of which an individual selflessly devotes oneself to another, there is nothing more beautiful than such a dedication to love. As lovers we tend to sign off our heart strings to others, in aspirations of keeping them with us forever, giving others complete power- I don’t know how healthy this may be but as lovers it’s what we do. I appreciate how you depicted cycles within a relationship and highlighted the toxicity of holding on, forcing me to wonder about where the line between selflessness and foolishness truly lies, as I struggle with it myself.

    Thank you for sharing such a personal and intimate story/journey. I undoubtedly connect with your words and admire the strength and conviction within depicting feelings sitting heavy on your chest.

    With much love,

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