I don’t wear my heart on my sleeve. 
It’s front and center, right in the middle of my chest. 
But it’s twice the size of those hearts you see on the Discovery Channel. 
It is strong and fragile and able to contain vast volumes. 
Sometimes the vibrant elixir encompassed in this organ overflows its banks,
sending conflicting feelings of sorrow and joy and confusion and gratitude
 through my being,
stealing my appetite and my sleep--
 permeating every moment with an intensity that is both
 invigorating and exhausting.
And just when I think every single person on the planet can see it,
I discover that,
 much to my surprise,
like Hemingway’s iceberg,
only 1/8 of what I am is on the surface,
and much of that is past finding out.