If only my heart looked inviting and warm to the touch...if only I could offer it up and say, "look! It is beating!"
If desire could light that heart on fire, I would be consumed by its flames.
If only my eyes looked kind and trusting; the kind of eyes that sparkled into a smile..and then I could say, "look! They shine!"
There is a quiet desperation- mouth opened wide in the expression- of a scream...
and I sit on my hands to keep them from tearing things down.
There is a peace somewhere. Somewhere inbetween the running, the singing, the falling, the reaching, the screaming...but I can't grab it while my hands are placed beneath me-
in order to keep me-
from myself.
(Just keep breathing.)
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