So the poets say,
To truly live, half your heart must beat in another's chest
To live good, you must have both halves of your heart close
Should that be the heaven of the living
The inferno of the live soul must be to have half a heart
Eternally searching for the other

Yet no, I should say,
One will not burn from what one's never felt
For has one only ever had half a heart
He should not miss the other
The inferno of the live soul must be to lose half a heart
For then the flames must be exile

Yet I say,
To truly live, you must lose half your heart
To live good, half a heart must be to you enough
For then your heaven must be exile
The inferno of the live soul must be for your heart to be in another
Condemned to never beat for you

I try to be strong in action and words  every day
Every morning I open my Bible and start to I pray
Whispers of imagined blessings  in the starts
Positivity, I have learned that, is a farce

I try to hold up ideals that I have broken before
In the hope that I can redeem myself the next time
The distant bell chimes calling out my death
I ignore the knell in an immortal hope sublime

I follow distant shadows on indistinct walls
My insecurities grace the surface and slither and crawls
I scoff at the reptilian camouflage of self-sufficiency
Knowing it is the pain carrying me on.

I am a ******* that would rather feel than be distant
I feel without expression when all I should do is cope
But instead what I do is hopelessly hope
My obsession with dreams makes me repentant.

Sometimes, on lonely nights, I can't be strong anymore
I reach out for a strong shoulder to cradle my sobs
But they often melt away in my tears and shape my fears
I shiver in my feigned self-sufficiency that calls out to emptiness

Maybe I let my imaginations run wild, wild horses fraying into the night
Maybe I need to let go of impossibilities and accept the practicalities
But I would rather lose myself in eyes I have never peered in
My paradise lurking beneath unseen memories.

(c) Anavah 2018