The Heart She Cries
The heart she cries.
She screams and aches and tears against my chest.
She begs. She pleads. She violently thrashes within me.
She cries out for something different. Something real. Something to touch her, ignite her, and set her free.
She will not be ignored.
She will not keep silent.
Pounding, shouting, begging, pulsing…she cannot remain where she is.
For she was meant to live for so much more. To be so much more. To give so much more. To receive so much more.
To expand, and grow, and flow, and love, and climb.
Silence is not in her nature. Compliance is not a part of her making. To conform is not within her.
For she is wild. She is free. She is strong and passionate and filled with things yet to be spoken, things yet to be seen, things yet to manifest and reveal themselves to the world.
So she wails. She screams. She fights.
From the mouth the heart speaks.
But this heart, she cries.