The heart –
Forever lost in choosing between
The would be, could be and
Should have beens…
Just can’t fix on what to hold on to
Where does it stand, what is truth?
The battles with the brain have,
In all ways, worn it down;
For moments it wishes it could
Let go, set itself free, not be so typically good,
(Conditions apply – not have the brain doubt or frown!)
There is feeling of giving up on itself;
On what it used to be – because it so sees no fruit.
What did it get, what did it find,
In being so calculated, so kind,
So thoughtful and considerate
Only to be torn down to not even pieces;
An escape to the magical land of peace it wants,
With the ideal means of travel all ready and set
(or so it still chooses to believe)
But what about being scared, having no faith
The scare of being beaten black and blue?
What will make a poor fellow like that
Learn to believe in who it used to be –
The fellow has learnt that attachments suck, they do.
They drain you.
And a doubt on the ones trying to pull him out
of that deep, dark, sad pit remains
What if it’s a farce all over again?
A known answer to a question so deep,
And for a heart that knew only of emotions –
The question, very horrific
Now comes up and front, and gives a scoff
“Do strings have to always connect,
Can one not just set them aside, cut them off?”
Not having to think of tomorrow,
Or even of moments after…
To live, to breathe, to just be where one was then
The black, white, grey areas all forgotten.
The moment? Alive. And lived for.
Of all this, the fellow wanted to be sure.
It asked around, looking for reason,
For backup, to go bad, to go “not-so-ideal,”
Those around said, “Humans thrived on emotions, and on hope.”
Of love, of being wanted, of a welcome tomorrow.
The liberals went, “Okay! Of course, not judging!”
The conservatives – “Okay? Of course not; JUDGING.”
The rest, well, had no advice, no opinion –
Interested in a sarcastic comment,
Making proud a certain Chandler Bing!
So, today it stands still for a while,
Looks around, sees things work out –
The answer it so desperately want to hold on to, that.
A backup, a support, all that it wants back.
Not to be lost again.
But will it be found? Maybe the path is wrong.
But how could it be… otherwise, the concept wouldn’t exist.
Nevertheless, looks like it wants to try,
What if this was Peace, this was Good?
This would be the way it should.
Maybe love had changed.
Maybe love wasn’t a one-time thing anymore.
Maybe the books and quotes got it all wrong, it seemed.
“A kiss won’t ruin our friendship!”
Except perhaps that one (?)