Ribs

There’s something in my breast
Building, pounding and it
Wants to escape
To ghost over
And run its fingers
Down a strand of your hair.

But it won’t.
I keep it tightly
Held back in an inscrutable
Mask of a poker face,
Betrayed in its existence,
Only by the occasional
Trembles in my voice.

So I beg you,
Grab me by the chest and
Crack the cage.
Tear me open and root through
All of the bloody
Nonsense
To find something that
Actually matters for once.