I Have This Heart
i have this heart, in my hand
it’s tangled and a mess,
it thinks its name is adam
and that happiness is best
yet i say “no, that’s not your name,”
“heart of mine, be still” yet
it won’t comply, it’s hard
as rock, (and wounded, better still)
ah, dear heart, wallowing
why thumping do you go?
the beat you meet
is beyond your keep
and the blood is black and slow.
who am i, to tell my heart
to stop and change its mind?
it’s unfeeling mess is mine
and i’m falling all the time.
there is a name, better still than
adam, or abraham, yet
my lips cannot form the
sweetness of the fragrance.
so apart from me, o name,
who am i to ask again?
Comments
Post a Comment