When my heart takes control, things happen.
My smile creeps past teeth and cheeks and settle in my pooling eyes.
I walk down hospital corridors with sunshine in my shoes.
When my heart takes control, my eyes tend to absorb more light than usual and the things I love take on a heavenly glow.
Bliss. Wonder.
But even when my heart takes control, it falls asleep at the wheel, swerving like a top about to stop, barely missing the trees and signposts.
A coin flips.
Heads.
I rationalize, I reason, I wrestle, I struggle. I squeeze my chest, my private treasure. My love.
Flip again.
Tails.
My world turns upside down. Sand falls through the cracks. Dry. Thin.
Sometimes, when my heart takes control, words seep through teeth, past cheeks; poison, melting, bubbling my pooling eyes, spilling.
Regret. Regret.
When my heart takes control, a marionette takes a stab at it. Moved by itself. Two faced beauty. Captivating.
Sometimes, when my heart takes control
I do it all to myself