My heart aches wide open, it’s soul laid bare. My heart sings a rhythm of something I really need. Of something I didn’t receive. My heart sings a tune to the beat of my own taut drum. My heart sings the song that reminds me I’m not my mum. My heart opens wide-spread, across the midnight sky, glancing at stars sideways and watching the ones shooting, pass by.
My heart is inside me, it musters up strength. My heart is inside me, raw and at times, clenched. But right now it’s open, open as can be. It’s wide spread loving arms, all encompassing me. Its grief spread totally sideways, its grief spread out to me. It’s grief spread so it shows me, nothing can really hurt me completely.
My heart remains wide open, despite the sorrow that greets it. My heart spread wide open, determined for something to meet it.
My heart fills a meaning that I sometimes lose inside – my heart feels all meaning and all nothing-to-hide.
My heart feels hidden in shadow, yet always by my side. My heart is a rainbow, coloured greatly from within, my heart is a cushion, in which I stick a pin – of hatred and of suffering, but never from within. Always from my chatter and always from my head. Never from my heart, because my hearts hatred is dead. My hearts hatred, was never really born.
My heart remains wide open, despite all that it can see.
My heart remains wide open, determined to protect me.
My heart remains wide open, hoping for the best.
My heart remains wide open, reminding I deserve the best.