My too silent heart

The pain didn’t pound on my chest like a gorilla

It burrowed timidly between

Soft shoulder blades

My heart, greedy for oxygen, could not lift a red flag,

Under each labored breath, it quietly cursed this

Rogue clot, sticky and deadly thick.

21 Comments My too silent heart

  1. Tina December 3, 2014 at 11:05 am

    This was very visceral and kind of scary. I hope that if you actually experienced this, you are feeling better.

    1. Meg December 4, 2014 at 1:27 am

      Thanks for your kind words, Tina. Yes, actually, six years ago today, I had a heart attack. It’s my angioversary! Back pain is a common symptom for women but a lot of doctors don’t connect the dots. Mine didn’t.

  2. susanwritesprecise December 3, 2014 at 12:55 pm

    So very evocative. Your descriptions and word choice really took me there. Good writing!

    1. Meg December 4, 2014 at 1:28 am

      Thanks so much, Susan. Grateful for your generous comments.

  3. Shannon December 3, 2014 at 8:36 pm

    Ah, the way you described the pain was fantastic, I re-read those first couple lines a couple times. It’s a gritty subject made beautiful.

    1. Meg December 4, 2014 at 1:29 am

      Greatly appreciate your thoughtful reading, Shannon!

  4. cynkingfeeling December 3, 2014 at 10:48 pm

    Your personification of the clot, your heart and the pain is amazing. So glad you defied the odds and are around to write this.

    1. Meg December 4, 2014 at 1:30 am

      Me too, Cyn! It was a big fat angry clot. ;) Thanks for your sweet comments. xoxo

  5. Silverleaf December 4, 2014 at 9:40 am

    My dear friend, this is a stunning and even beautiful insight into something which must have been terrifying. Makes me feel even luckier to know you. And what a perfect title. xo

    1. Meg December 12, 2014 at 12:34 am

      Awww. Thanks for this sweet comment. I feel lucky to be here and to know you. Big hugs.

  6. KymmInBarcelona December 4, 2014 at 10:41 am

    I really like how you take this from the (expected) gorilla pounding to the (unexpected) quiet and deadly form it takes on.
    I’m also happy to be able to read you : )

    1. Meg December 12, 2014 at 12:36 am

      Thank you, Kymm! Our paths don’t cross much on the boards here at yeah write — seems like we’re always posting in different places — so I’m especially grateful to hear from you.

  7. Christine December 4, 2014 at 1:45 pm

    Fantastic, Meg. The more I read it, the better I like it. (The writing, not the event!)

    1. Meg December 12, 2014 at 12:37 am

      Mwah, Christine. I’m glad you enjoyed it. It was heartfelt. Hah! See what I did there! ;)

  8. jedwardbenoit December 4, 2014 at 2:10 pm

    I wish big things would announce themselves with loud knocking. Instead it’s these little pin pricks that we ignore until it’s too late. Way to capture that.

    1. Meg December 12, 2014 at 12:39 am

      Yeah, I walked around for two weeks essentially having a prolonged heart attack. Amazingly, the muscle was not damaged. I’m a lucky girl. Thanks for reading and commenting.

  9. discontentedoyster December 4, 2014 at 9:51 pm

    writing about illness is a tricky endeavor. you shoot, you score.

    1. Meg December 12, 2014 at 12:41 am


  10. Nate December 4, 2014 at 10:25 pm

    Happy Angioversary! I felt this in the pit of my stomach because I knew it was autobiographical. I love how you ended it. We never anticipate our (potential) killers to be within.

    1. Meg December 12, 2014 at 12:42 am

      Thanks, Nate! Happy to still be here. Glad you liked this. It was a subtle response to the prompt. Just barely squeaked in.


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