SEPARATED

What am I waiting for?...

I have my heart in my hands,

burning my flesh‐

the light from the flame reflects in my eyes.

Will I drop it or put back in my chest?...

~

What is this aching for?...

Holding a living fire within my palms was never among any of my plans,

and neither has ever it been in my interest to stand here and burn to death‐

but this fight within myself isn't saying its goodbyes.

Will there ever come, days of rest?...

~

This battle continues aging, but what for?...

If I follow this heart, where will my feet land?...

When it and my mind refuse to mesh,

time itself becomes a nightmare in disguise‐

It is simply a matter of such until they fully separate in this unrest.

~

For answers, and for control, my body in itself is waging war...

as if in the same place, what I know to be true and feel to be right, cannot stand,

walking their own ways, tearing me in two in the process‐

I can only hope that this fire instead of spreading, burns out and dies.

My heart and mind turn the page in their own books, and I'd like not to know comes next.