Let My Heart Speak






Exhausted.
Exhausted by the weight of the world that I’ve chosen to shoulder.
Everything I do must be good enough for someone, must be pleasing or right or noble or sensible.

Look at me, Mama! Look at me, Daddy! Ain’t I doing good?

Even when there is no one around, I feel the eyes of invisible faces watching my every move, analyzing and criticizing.
I just want to do it right for once.
My heart beats fast in the fear that clutches me when I ponder the ways I’ve been missing the mark.
The cycle is endless, this story of performance. Performing even when the blinding lights shut off, the lilting music fades, and the scrutiny is over.

I stare at the cursor on the broad white screen.
Blink. Blink. Blink.
It daunts me and dares me to type out something that will wow the crowd, chaining me to the keyboard with the motivation of making a sensation, not emptying my heart.

Or is my heart already empty?

No. My heart is churning with story. It is churning with magic and wonder and love.
My heart has something to say.
And it will say it, even if only within itself. Even if it is only to be stored in a folder within a folder within another folder and is never revealed to another soul.


Finally, I will let my heart speak.


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