Secrets I Whisper to the Stars at Night

paradoxical existence

the heart and the mind

 i think i mixed them up 

don't know which is which 

both adrift; both shattered 

 words matter, 

i have lots of them 

but i have no voice 

In which to say them 

 emotions in disarray: 

should i free them? 

or should i cage them? 

they explode nonetheless. 

 physically intact 

but inside, bruised. 

utterly in ruins 

hiding in several layers 

strong but brittle 

ruthless but soft 

close yet so far away, 

i am a living paradox.