It comes to this

 

When you see people with the heart,
always the heart,
you ache from the pain they have to endure
but wish them well, even as they lash out.


Sometimes they lash right at you,
and you haven't grown the thick skin for it
because you think the thicker skin will stop you from loving.


So you hurt and feel foolish,
while it runs right to your center.
Worst, still,
you lash out at anyone who is near, reaching out to you.


And so it ripples out,
the drop of pain that started in a pond,
now an ocean.