In The Heart

If I looked into my heart, I'm not sure what it is I would find. Too many times does the heart yearn for things unsaid and unknown, too many times does it go unheeded. Too many times do we miss what we most need. We are then left to wander, lost, alone and unaware of what went wrong.

If I was to look at myself in the mirror, and try to discern what kind of person I really am, I'm not sure what I would conclude. I fear the darkness overcomes any beauty that I might possess, if indeed I possess any at all. I fear that all the things that once made me into the person I am were stolen, torn and scattered in the wind, and that I am left empty, a shell, ready to be filled again, but unsure of what things to pour into the new creation of myself.

But perchance, I would look, and I would find what I least expected; the universe spilling through me, ready to be touched, brought forth, and distributed into the world. Perhaps that is all I could hope for.