Oh heart, you steady drum. (beats)
Under your enduring rythm
I’m becoming undone.
I go into my being,
unwinding in timing and
I lay beauty on her back
so she can float down my bloodstream.
Oh heart, you poet.
I hold my pen like an artery, like a ripchord. I listen for you through the full bellied shout of my dreams, I fill pages with words groping for what you mean when you (beats) I hold onto your sound and hope to sing myself clean.
You ceaseless jester, how we have wrestled through the labyrinth of riddles my mind has built across my knowing. How I’ve toiled on this path in darkness despite all of your glowing. How I’ve masked you in conventions to keep my truth from showing.
Oh heart, it is you I am still learning to trust, untwisting these anxious guts, I am letting these breathes open you up, and with the you as my crux, I will rise again, despite these earthquakes shaking my sheepish limbs, and ever charging, changing winds, on the days I cannot bear to wear this skin, I go in. and for the thousandth time I start over, (beats)
always coming back softer,
but somehow stronger.
Oh heart, You teacher, you bray truth into my make up when you break me. Through aches and pangs my faults are tumbled, composed for smooth and shining fumbles, Any test I have failed you have let me retake, so I’m stitching up my sleeves for smarter heartbreaks. Threading the lessons from every mistake.
You gardener, you rake the ground my pain walks on. Planting seeds within in the deep ravine, where Ive thrown the parts I don’t want seen. and when I find myself buried, you compost my tainted memories and turn me– over, push me on to greener pastures, on to blooming fields of laughter. Every season just another chapter. Another chance to make roots around what I am after, I’m sure,No matter what chaos come, an oasis grows under my sternum. (beats)
Oh heart, you curious magic, you are the universe between palms, invoking prayers unspoken. With every every wax and wane of moon you groom my dereliction. On my most haunted nights, your light is the cloak I wear for protection. and yet so many times I’ve accepted your gifts just to neglect them.
You are a house of many naked rooms, oh heart.
but I will make a home of you yet.
I will beat old resentments off the welcome mat
in my chest, and paint the walls with expressions repressed
I will let love in, with all it’s clever tools
to unhinge the doors blocking my talents and my jewels
I will sweep every dirty corner with tender introspection
and open up the windows, to shine on my perfect imperfections
I’ll tug these cobwebbed heartstrings,
to bring in worthy things.
I will fill these halls of never enough
….and if I ever become jaded
for fear I’ve felt to much,
if I grow sick and lonesome
on another persons touch.
If I loose the pulse in promises
and get swept up in past review.
I will put a saddle on my grief, oh heart,
and ride it home to you.
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