My heart is wild,
most hearts are.
But as adults we learn
to set boundaries for our hearts,
to tame them,
to keep ourselves
Safe.
To contain our wildness,
to channel it in appropriate ways.
To be rational,
realistic,
responsible.
None of these things are bad, persay.
But sometimes the heart needs to be set Free.
To be allowed to run wild,
to drop everything and chase the stars,
or the waves,
or the sunrise.
To take the lead, and consequences be damned.
I set my heart Free again,
it was the only way to heal it,
and now it’s wild.
It does what it wants.
Goes where it wants.
Loves who it wants.
It is not Safe,
and neither am I,
and neither are you.
But is it better
to be
Safe…
or
Free?
I wrote this back in December, and then promptly forgot about it, but came across it again and decided it makes a few things about my life clearer, as poetry tends to do, and so needed to be shared. So… here it is.
Breaking Moulds 
This says it all!