Talking to Myself

The Heart
I don't get it
It's just an organ
A muscle that pumps blood
That's all it is

But that's not all...
It has to be more.
The Bible says it.
"I've idden your word in my heart"
Does this mean something?

What would it mean?
Your heart has some kind of process?
Some kind of synaptic response?
Does it think?
Muscles don't think.

Then why does it hurt?
Right here, under it all?
My heart beats strange.
It skips and falls...
It rises and falls...

Hormone imbalances.
Your brain gets a signal
Timer gets off
Your heart feels funny
No such thing as love

No love you say?
No love, no risks.
No risks, life isn't life.
No life, no heart.
No heart, no love.

No logic, no thought.
No thought no life.
No life no brain.
No brain, no logic.
Love isn't necessary.

Life and living,
House and home,
Beloved and lover,
Father and dad.
There's a difference.

You live, you have life.
You have a house, it's home
"love" is irrelevent!
SYNONNYMS!
No Difference

Life isn't living without a purpose.
A home is just a house without love.
A beloved stays, lovers change.
Fathers inforce rules.
Dads care and cry with you.

Then why don't they care?

I don't know.

And you?

I don't know.

Responses

1 comment so far.

1. nymphadora says:

   What a lovely poem! You express yourself really well!