I am naive I guess. I am naive and hopeful. That's why I wear my heart in my sleeve. I enjoy being strong, I enjoy being vulnerable too. I enjoy the realness that is my experience. Where most fall shy of weakness, I dust away the boundaries. Where most place bricks and cement them with the pain of their experiences, I let volumes of expression ride the off-shoots of tempestuous jet streams... I do not see them leave, but I feel them vanish - no. I feel them spread. Weaker they grow as their bonds break. Still, they go. Tinier they feel. The lumps in my chest grow ever increasingly. My experience of truth remains raw. Lighter I get. Weightless yet intact, my hallowed home remains. The solace of my reflection carries me upward. How revealing this text has become. My innermost -lies on a platter for the scavengers of deceit and twisted amusement. Yet cry I cannot, love I must. Seek inside the eternal I do. My soul determines the soul determinant of what I seek. My ever eternal. I shall continue to love. My soul shall continue cry out with determination. Eventually the tears and tears that shall wrinkle and lacerate my experience, shall determine my truth. I shall be free. But until then may I remain hopeful. May I remain naive. My heart is here, coloured red, dripping at the elbows.
