A: You seem like a man I would like to be involved with.
B: My heart is not new...
It is an old heart.
Tarnished and rusty.
Used.
It is cracked and nicked and scratched.
It's been broken many times.A: What? (Pause)
A: What are you talking about?
B: My heart.
A: Do you have a heart problem or something?
B: Yes, I have a problem with my heart.
It is tired and weary.
It is a very used and worn heart
It has loved many times before.(Sigh)
A: And what does that mean?
B: I don't know if my heart can bear another wound.
I am not sure my heart can handle another cut.
Another bruise.
Another crack or nick or scratch.
Another dent in it.
I do not want it broken again.A: Well, Mister, you better just guard that sacred heart of yours.
A: Your heart is a useless thing to you.
It is too fragile.
It is of no value.
You never know how much your heart can hold until it is completely broken.
And all your love pours out.(Pause)
B: I guess that there are no guarantees that it won't hurt.
(Sigh)
A: No. There are no guarantees.
We are talking about loving.
And living.
Don't you want to feel alive?B: Yes. I want to feel that way.
Does that mean I have to feel pain?A: Sometimes. Yes.
B: I don't want to hurt.
A: Then I guess you don't want to live.
(Pause)
A: Wasn't it wonderful when you loved and your heart beat like a pulse?
B: Why yes it was.
A: Love doesn't have to hurt.
But sometimes it might cause an ache or something.
It's part of being alive.B: You make loving sound like masochism.
A: No, Mister.
YOU make it sound that way.
YOU are the one going on and on about the condition of your heart.
YOU are the one who doesn't believe that love can also heal a heart.B: Do I?
A: Yes. You do.
(Pause)
A: If you live in fear of loving or hurting.
You will die in fear of living.B: Who are you?
A: Don't you know me?
(Long Pause)
A: I am your guilty conscience.
©1993 poetheart