Note by clay note
pipe me down.
Play the holes in my heart
that swallow love
and slowly heal.
— Moineddin Jablonski

Play the holes in my heart.

My heart is full of holes.

There’s a hole for my daughter, my little girl lost.

There’s a hole for each of the babies I will never have.

There’s a hole for all the years I denied my power.

There’s a hole in my heart for the times I was abused.

There’s a hole for all the times I hated myself.

There are holes in my heart, as numbered and varied as the footprints on my path.

But play my heart, please.

Listen to the song I sing, brought forth from my pain.

Born out of despair, the melody of my life made all the more beautiful by the light I shine.

My heartbeat, the drum. My tears fall, cleansing, emptying even as I fill with something more.

Without sorrow, we would fail to appreciate the joy. Without the darkness, how would we know the warmth of the light?

I am journeying. I am spiraling up a long and winding path, learning as I go. Feeling afraid, losing myself in the darkness of disconnection. And still, I walk on.

And still I breathe. Still I wander ever closer to the light.

And still I play, note by clay note, the song of my slowly healing heart.