they fight
and fight
and fight
I am a worn torn state
the chest cavity a barren ruin
the skull a smouldering crater
the mind tells me no
don't do that
it'll only lead to trouble
the heart tells me yes
take a chance
break me and then patch me up again
the mind is sensible,
reliable
the type of boy that you'd bring home to meet the parents over thanksgiving
the heart is wild,
reckless
the type of boy that every father has nightmares about
and while the heart might drive too fast and smoke too much
I've come to see the method to his madness
because while he may be nursing a nasty gambling habit,
when he gets it right,
all doubt and fear and trepidation is eviscerated
with only happiness in its place
so it's time for a surrender
a wave of that white flag
because while the mind might be a trustworthy GPS
I've always preferred the challenge of reading a map
there's a sort of beauty in unpredictability
so mr. heart
take the wheel
I'm all yours.
Great post. You characterized the heart perfectly. A boy that any father is worried about. That really made sense to me. It reminds me of the Phantom vs. Raoul debate that we'll have in a few weeks.
ReplyDeletethere's a sort of beauty in unpredictability
ReplyDeleteI love this post a lot. #relatable
last stanza got me.
ReplyDeleteyou use big words and you do it well and you make me feel things and i love that line about the method to his madness. absolutely love it.
ReplyDelete