Every morning, I wake up—way too early, in my opinion—wash my face, brush my hair, put on an outfit that I pretend I haven’t worn twice in the past week and a half, and pack my bag for school. Then, just before I rush out the door in my perpetual state of delay, I reach back to my nightstand for my most important accessories.
I string two necklaces aimlessly around my neck, struggle with the four bracelets I wear each day, then carefully pick up my heart from where I laid it gently beside my bed the night before and pin it delicately to the sleeve of my shirt.
My outfit wouldn’t be the same without it.
It lays there throughout the day, beating in an unsteady, precarious rhythm to the beat of my classmates’ laughter. I can feel its gentle movement mimic the tempo of my scratching pencil, working on a school project that I’ve gotten far too invested in.
I’ve never been afraid for it; I’ve never really thought much about it until the other day when I glanced down arbitrarily at the little bleeding thing on my sleeve and saw what it had grown.
Flowers have grown from the core of my heart, and they loop endlessly across my body.
Orchids, like my best friend’s eyes, spill in abundance down my arm. They tickle my fingers and shower my skin with the scent of strawberry scones and monkey bars in the summertime.
Sunflowers explode across my shoulder, tripping down the edges of butter-yellow sunshine beams in the shape of my grandmother’s hand holding mine in a bookstore and my cousin’s radiant laughter at dinner.
Pink roses and Iceland poppies chase each other up the side of my neck. They whisper jokes in my ear, giggling at the smallest things, winding themselves into the hair at the nape of my neck; they tug gently and remind me they are there. They remind me why I pin that fragile, beating little thing, ever so carefully, to my sleeve each day.
Tulips and hyacinths tie themselves in knots over my collarbone. They dance together in a tune I have forgotten how to play, one that sounds like the lofty flute of nostalgia and all my favorite songs, one that feels like braids and peels of laughter in the quiet classrooms of early May. One that taught me how poetry has a taste if you listen closely enough and scratched gently at my heart until I tried it myself.
My heart has sat on my sleeve my whole life.
I wouldn’t be the same without it.
It’s too much a part of who I am to do anything about now. I grew curious, one day, of the lives I had etched into my heart, so I reached inside my chest to examine it. Once I did, it was too beautiful to return to its safehouse beneath my skin and between my bones.
So here it has sat since, and, exposed to the dirt, rain, and sunlight of my life, its flowers wound themselves around me. I will not put it back now; I refuse to dislodge my blossoms.
Someone told me once that I love too much—too freely. They said that most things in the world aren’t about love and that I shouldn’t act like they are, giving away so much of my heart to so many people.
But I disagree. Everything is about love—all the songs, books, and TV shows ever written. Each new invention, update, flavor of bubble gum, and thumbtack on my wall. Every lesson taught by every teacher in every school across the world. The sighs of breath, blinks of eyes, and twitches of fingers.
New blossoms of every flower—every beat of every heart—are love.
So, I leave my heart where it belongs: forever pinned to the edge of my sleeve. I let it pick up dirt and grime. I let the rain pour down over it in waves. I let sunlight pepper its surface with warmth.
And then, amidst smiles from strangers and waves across crowded hallways, between new flavors of bubblegum, my favorite songs played on a flute, and strawberry scones, I watch new flowers bloom and grow, covering my skin in familiarity and eternally reaching outwards towards a universe drenched with love.
Alison Peticolas • Jan 17, 2025 at 9:49 pm
Really beautiful piece of writing! Love the images you create and the feelings you honor.
Sarah Velie • Jan 17, 2025 at 1:56 pm
This came across my Instagram stories today, and wow. So poetic. Just lovely. You have a talent!