If a heart could speak

what of loss could it say?

Would it be more gracious

than one’s mind in the fray?

Could it give understanding 

for the insatiable madness

That last crumb of sense lost

coveting what can’t be had

Could it speak of the blow

that sharp dagger to the skin

Echoing thought below the surface

“I’m not wanted, not wanted”

Would it shed tears of mourning

for the scarring of the soul

Dragging steal across bone

carving in, “I’m not enough, not enough”

What comfort could it deliver

in those moments of the unknown?

Facing the darkened path ahead

  yet too afraid to go it alone

Looking anxiously behind 

still grasping for those fallen straws

But as sand sliding through finger tips

holding the past is a lost cause

Does it ever cry out in anger

at the injustice of fate?

Scream with all of its might

against what cannot be changed

Does it rage with the force

of a perfect storm upon the sea?

Emotions breaking in violent waves

every creature at its mercy

Does it as the sense of self 

ever teeter on the edge?

A tipping seesaw of desperation 

tottering reality and mania

Dangling between thoughts

drastically cutting all away

Bereft of all attachments

it never need feel again

Or does it flicker 

with the light of the last flame?

Reminding the soul 

of all the love lost and gained

The beauty of letting oneself

embrace a full and thriving heart

Of succumbing to that whimsy,

that magical elation of love’s spark

Or would it only softly whisper 

its deepest secret in one’s ear?

Abandoned are solely those

who never let love out of fear