My heart

There is a tipping point
between continuing to withhold
and letting go
my head and heart war
over this
this
this

I hesitate to speak of it
to make even that small commitment
towards change
having travelled so far
along this road
why am I not
further on

I counsel patience to myself
speak peaceful thoughts to my heart
trying to still the trepidation
that lies therein
I never seem able to make sense
of the vast disparity
between desire and need

Do you ever dream of running
towards or away from some place
but however much effort you expend
you remain rooted to the spot
or feel caught in the spotlight
of your own scrutiny
knowing you'll always come up short

Is it possible to learn grace
or must we wait for it emerge
from the fires of some further tribulation
can I not learn from the things
already consigned to the past
or the present
where should I look first

I look to my heart
but the vestibule is so cluttered
with this confusion of feelings
I dare not trust it
having been led so far astray
by the vagaries of words said
but never truly meant

And so I look to my head
and there I find a sense
so difficult to deny
impossibly so because
my heart
you see it's my heart
I fear it will betray me still