My little Butterflies.

Monday, February 20, 2012

Two Bickering Minds.

I swore I wasn't crying.
Yet, upon touching these cheeks, 
there was another story.
they had made a valley down,
dripping all over the wooden table.

Making their mark so distinct.
They tell their story so directly.
Screaming their emotions so vividly.
Yet, I wish the lips would do the same.

Eyes; they are the window to everyone's soul.
Look at what they are trying to tell you.
I cannot lie. Not when you're staring at them.
Because they don't lie. 
Yet, gullible they are.

These lips, they speak, but not always, 
especially when most needed.
Evading questions, answers, 
especially truths the heart wants to speak.

Ears to listen, yet they often get tricked by the voices inside my head.
They get deceived easily by the eyes,
then ending by screening words,
perceived to be what the mind wants it to be.
How foolish these ears are.

Then there's the mind.
Always, and I mean always, overthinking.
Never a minute resting.
Often bickering with the heart on what's to be done.
It seems to know what's right.
And legitly has not failed.

Lastly, there's the one that causes everyone to go mad.
The mischievous, scandalous yet benignant heart.
Pumping blood, and often love, 
Making sure it does not grow cold.
Being the sensitive of them all, 
It is the one that turns on the blender.

(Heart) Should I? 
(Brain) You know you shouldn't. 
(Heart) But I can't deny these feelings. 
(Brain) You can't, but I can; thy lips shant speak.
(Heart) Brain, you are being mean. No matter how pokerface you'll be, thy eyes can't tell lies.
(Brain) But before anyone can see your tinted eyes, my body language and words would have told them otherwise. 
(Heart) You're such a bully! Why are you doing this to me? I'm hurting on the inside.
(Brain) It's for your own good. You won't understand it now, but in due time.
(Heart) Its so hard. The feelings are killing me on the inside. But no one should know.

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