A while

I have grown wearing of burying feelings and thoughts as quickly as they were born. Aborting them before they have even the potential to cause trouble, heartache and regrets. Nothing stays buried even with cement shoes and 50lbs iron weights. Dead bodies float, get dug up, the evidence remains. Specters shadow your steps through life since they are parasites feeding off of your heart which never forgets. Your past isn’t marked by what you remember, which is a lie, but rather the state of your heart.

My heart is not in bad shape but neither is it in good shape. Like very thing else in the world the two guiding principles are in affect, irony and relativity. My heart if I had to describe the state of my heart it is not a trusting heart. There is little else I could say with certainty other than that my heart is not a trusting heart. It is sad the strongest description is a negative one. If only I could have written that mine is a warm heart, an open heart, a big heart, a caring heart, a forgiving heart, a merciful heart. Any of these would have been a more welcome description than an untrusting heart. But it is a true reflection of my past and of who I am.

But as I write this I feel like I am making excuses. I do not want to do that. And although I feel I do have reasons behind why my heart bears these scars, I also understand that I have for too long let my scars dictate my choices and thus my future. So, as always I form a new wish and dream and set out again.