SparksRandomly

Where the heart meets the mind...

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THE HARDEST PART

To whom it may concern, I hope you’re well. I wish I could say the same But I spent previous years Fighting emotions That drew from my eye wells. You and I were like wedding bells, Two individuals, United for a greater purpose, But ours is a story I never tell Because not every chapter deserves to be published, Some make me nervous. To whom it may concern, Moving on was not the…

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DEAR OPPRESSION

IMAGE CREDIT: Ezekixl Akinnewu – Pexels.com Dear oppression, I used to think of you. I used to think of how eloquently you’d speak, And the rhythm to which your lips would dance Each time they parted to release a word That’d roll out so smoothly, Making me envious of the words That get to feel the sensation of your tongue’s caress. I used to think of your voice And the power it…

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HURT TO HEART

There's a certain name that my mind likes to sing and when it does, I feel consumed by a world of ' What ifs, ' and "I wonder..." I'd like to say that I've moved on but I have fooled myself enough. Once, a man lit a match with the aim of seeing right through me as he walked around the walls of my heart. What he failed to realize was that there was a reason for the darkness he encountered. So like all flames do, warmth was created and like every cold person I so desperately clung to it because my bones had rattled enough. I let him walk around a bit but when health inspectors visit unexpectedly, you only show them around the 'ready' areas. In this case, that is precisely what I did. He cast light on only the revealed places and when it began to feel invasive, I'd find ways of closing off. What I didn't expect was that he'd keep coming back to unearth me some more, perhaps just like the health inspector would upon realizing that you didn't show her all the rooms. Some days I'd let him in, allowing him to roam around while still ensuring that some doors of my heart remained closed. Other days, I'd let him even peep into such rooms before closing it shut with immediate effect. I never did fully let him in because not everything deserves the light. Some secrets are best told in darkness, where pity holds no place. He was getting frustrated, I could tell, but he's never been one to give up so easily. Nonetheless he was wise. While he kept trying to make new discoveries, he had also set camp in another's heart. Another who shared her warmth with him like he did with me. Like I wished I could with him. Unfortunately, for a person who's had better memories in the cold than in the heat, it was becoming a bit too warm. I have known nothing about the heat except for the heat of the moment being one of the many reasons of my pain and the pain I caused others. The cold, however, has always been a welcome resort when I needed to let my truth out, allowing me to defend myself and declare my stance fearlessly. Therefore, a decision had to be made and one day I locked him out. Of course, not without a note to inform him of part of the reason and it would be unfair for me to take all the credit when time had a helping hand in it. We all went on our ways yet being the gentleman he portrays himself to be, he left the light and warmth with me. I desired to sustain the flame but I've always been clumsy with what is mine to keep, uncertain of my worthiness to receive it. So I let the flame rage on uncontrollably,  triggering it into an inferno. I allowed it to swallow my heart whole with the aim of erasing any effects of his previous presence but all it did was create a scar that my mind is well aware of. Yet I remain unsure of what was worse: My pushing him away or the immature assumption that he was interested in being more than friends just because he showed mere interest.

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A Fresh Focus