Heart Soars

Love me inside out, for some areas shan’t be pierced again.

Better challenge the mind, for the heart’s no longer, an easy win.

It’s the, generator of my being, 

my love core’s meaning, 

my interior belief’s.

As well as caught off guard feelings.

All my second guesses, 

The healing process, of my stresses .

Above all, my daily internal prayer and repetitive taught lessons.

A mosaic masterpiece, mended, counselee on my part,

of pieces collaged together,

in the bask of patchwork art.

A brilliantly flawed masterpiece of toppled mystique, perfected in Topaz, golden, genuine and unique. 

And no more, ever again, to be held hostage, by vengeful trickery’s defeat.

Complete deafness to arguments , 

by interrogation trap, repeats. 

An endless, antagonizing–avalanche, of accusatory riddles.

By babbling eyes, inspired by brooks.

Keeping my loyal, heart in the middle.

A stable conscience and hospitalized ego, pair up by taking a back seat. 

Otherwise, the future’s existence, would be maliciously bleak .

Darkened by time’s past, 

chaotic behaviors, consumably left untreated.

As desires take refuge, stolen, 

by a fleeing thief in the night.

Loving arms are tightly bound, stifled to reach into the dark.  

From fear of a joy stealing entity, reaching back, ready to embark .

My heart wing’s requires flight, 

 for my eyes to no longer bore, 

 and it’s feathers are not to be stunted, and cut down repeatedly, upon the opening, of hidden trap doors.

No longer held captive, by another’s, controlling jealousies– unjustified lack of trust issues and competitive war, debris. 

For I am a free spirit, appropriately ready to soar.

The caution tape reflects, the death of the old, as renewed strings, 

are my reward.

This heart, no longer harbors contempt, relives past angers, or strives.

For it outweighed the lists of consequence, and desires now, only to thrive. 

“ For a heart dies many deaths, 

until it reaches completion.“

“Sheds many layers after, loss, anger, and unreasoning“.

My heart has moved from its old address , currently a roommate to my mind,

and all though feelings appear suppressed and loathsome .

They are finally, fine-tuned and aligned.

By Tamara Moore

Thinker on the loose-Tamaraurmajesty@

Copyright (c) Reserved for purposes by Tamara L Dorsey-Moore 


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