The shape of my heart

The heart begs for its many needs
one after another
for comfort and care
for much it cannot truly bear

The torn pieces of the soul
float around the body with blood
engulfing the entire being swiftly
swallowing pieces of our emotions so sickly

The determined pursuit of desires
wishing nothing more than to touch tomorrow
wanting what cannot be afforded
yearning for satisfaction not accorded

Mirages of our wishes satisfied
hold many brightly colored oases
when bruised and beaten to batter
the heart often finds what truly matters

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