Today just so happens to be my birthday! So for this Musing Monday, I’m posting my favorite kind of literary writing—prose poetry! Here’s a little reminder that even still hearts can learn to beat again (with a cute, but very rough animation to go alongside it!). 💙
Heartbeat:
When your heart stops beating, you do not feel it—there’s no pain, no warning, no sign. Your bones still grow, but your soul feels defeated…and you float in perpetual time.
You don’t know the moment the blood stopped flowing. You don’t know when it withered and died. You just wake up one day, and you know the unknowing—and you wonder how you’re still alive.
Even though your heart has stilled, there’s existence still to be had. So you stuff it with feathers and pretend that it’s filled… and that you’re not too numb to feel sad.
When you live with no heartbeat in a world meant for pulse, other parts of you fade from your core. The color of your spirit slowly dulls, and you miss who you’re not anymore.
There’s beauty in a silent heart—it doesn’t have to stay lifeless forever. It takes time, loss, and pain for it to restart, but it breathes again stronger than ever.
So you self-resurrect, you pull out the feathers—your very own angel of breath. It calls for patience, with all that it weathered. After all, it just danced with death.
And when your heart starts beating, you do not feel it—there is no throb, no tremor, no rush. Your bones still ache but your soul feels needed, and time doesn’t torment as much.
You don’t know the moment your veins started pulsing. You don’t know when it finally revived. You just wake up one day and know you are growing… and you realize that you’re still alive.
