Seperation

My writing really does say it. It tells what my heart longs to shout. So seperated am I, between my mind and my heart. I follow my thoughts on a daily basis, not my heart. I lock that thing away, so that it can not interfere with my normal life. I supress all the feelings and emotions to the best of my ability, letting only those that, for the most part, can not harm to the surface. At some points though, it becomes too much, and my carefully structured world comes crashing down upon me. My mind becomes an instrument for my heart, writing out what my soul only wishes it could scream. Such is the content of my art. My stories. My poems. The secrets which I hold that plug up the holes in my heart. The feelings that I do not allow myself to feel. The fears that plague my every hope. The things that shouldn't and normally are not acted upon. My heart is tearing itself to shreds, trying to release all it can, while my mind looks the other way. Such is my life. My mind and logic rule me over the day until my heart takes over during the night, spilling out my gut. What a hopeless mess.