I often become afraid of my own heart. The way it feels deeply for everything, down to the tiniest insect, to a stranger in passing, whom I will never meet, never see again. My heart is often my wound, but I still choose it. I choose love.

I often become afraid of my own heart. The way it feels deeply for everything, down to the tiniest insect, to a stranger in passing, whom I will never meet, never see again. My heart is often my wound, but I still choose it. I choose love.

Christopher Poindexter