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The Fuel

My beating heart.

The heart beats differently with every emotion I feel. The pounding out of my chest from pumping anxiety throughout my body, sending signals to my brain of time nearing its end. The intensity flooding through, with no time to think.

The soft beats per minute out of charm and the sparkles of life, without noticing the lapse in momentary insanity. Holding the thought of him in my frontal lobe, memorizing his face and eyes, swooning me.


There is also a beat that lifts your gut, sending your eyes to the sky, to look at heaven pretending angels wings are on your back, even when everything is unfinished.


The heavy beating that droops your chest from moments of less unfortunate times. A stroke of hematoma flooding tears through summer, wishing for things that could have been.


Other beats murmurs with a voice, that speaks of more than just love. With a jostling shift towards the center of your breast bone, from a sudden change in life. Sending chills down your spine with a whisper, "everything willl be okay." Or the voice that only fairies can hear, coming from the holy cavern, taking me away from running on empty.


Every beat is a miracle with a mind altering result. It is an electrical current that can take your breath away, or hold you steady. Besides the brain, the heart is a personality, with an agreement to good faith without whom it can't exist.


If only my heart is truly in love, will I know what life feels. Just write.

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