scattered

They say that patience is a virtue. They say that time will grace the presence of your heart and heal all of the hurt. Eventually.

If wild hearts can’t be broken, then can mysterious hearts never be kept?

I struggle to bear the weight of the world’s predisposed juxtapositions and ‘core values’. To be a team player, a model citizen… When can one sever the binding ties and let their true heart free? When can we live under the consequences of none; play in the kingdom of our own making; of our own destiny.

I treat my heart honestly, I tell myself each of life’s unabridged stories. The ones that I have come to read, anyway.

I feel the worn pages under my fingertips, holding the page that so many have touched before me.

Each soul is given its own journey to take; some pause and ebb, others race with intense urgency.

I simply sit, waiting; eyes fixated where green meets blue, where air meets earth.