Listen.

Come and see the inner strings of my heart.
Take a look at the inlaid and outlaid amends.
Of the wires that cross and uncross my veins,

There are thorny crosses and tricky overlays.

At every heartbeat 

Can you hear the rhythm -

Of constant longing 

And see the pattern -

Of picking and unpicking? 

I had to kneel 

To pick up the pieces 

That were left from the battles - 

To protect it, to protect my heart.

Why don’t you pause 

To listen - 

To the story often told 

That you still don’t quite understand?

My heart is not made of flesh 

Yet the memories in it, all so fresh 

Bleed out its veins, long suppressed 

Because you won’t quite listen 

Listen to the rhythm of my heartbeat.

It tells the stories of my longing 

For a yesterday without complications 

For a today without justifications, 

For a tomorrow without condemnations

If yesterday could be undone,

Would today be flexed? 

If today could be flexed, 

Would tomorrow be saved? 

Did you hear it from my heart -

That what you see 

Is not what is? 

Could you find it in your heart - 

To listen out for -

What is? 

If the rhythm of my heart sounds - 

Irregular, remember 

I have known no ordinary day

Since that day - when 

The world heard my outcry 

But did not listen.

Come and kneel with me.

As we listen to the rhythm of -

My heart 

Perhaps at the break of day, we would 

Get tired of kneeling - and

stand - 

Perhaps when we stand, we would 

Look through the horizon - and 

see - 

Where we should head - to find 

what it takes to withstand