Poetry

The Heart

There's a geography to a heart,

certain places where it peaks and certain places where it speaks,

there's also a chronology to the heart,

the longer you love something the less that you love it,

your heart likes to be an anthropologist

trying to figure out what everyone means,

why they all lean to one side or the other,

or trying to figure out a color for each person it sees.

There's no euphemism for a heart, not the real one i know,

no way to make it seem happy and glow

not the reality of a heart that's on the run and go.

Because hearts are not the heliocentric things you think that they are

they are things that don't know what's too far,

don't know when to start and don't know when to be slow,

don't know when you want to try and when you want to die.

The only telescope to the heart is the eyes,

letting you see what's truth and what's lies,

allowing you into the astrology that is your arteries

and the only thing that allows you to break down the armory that is the real heart I know,

the one that's on the run and go. 

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i wrote this in like 10 minutes for a school project ¯\_(ツ)_/¯