It’s the sound of my fingertips
tapping against computer keys,
the sound of the wheels in my mind turning,
the sound of my soul churning out
words that flow,
my innermost secrets displayed
on a Word document;
that is what makes my heart pump.
It’s the smell of country-fried steak and gravy,
creamy mashed potatoes and string beans,
filling this small house
while mom throws down in the kitchen;
that is what makes my heart sing.
And when I look up to the ceiling
and know that, passed it, is a sky
and the moon and the stars,
I know that my heart will just
keep on goin’.
These are the things that nourish my heart.
And this is important.
Because there was once a time,
when I wished my heart would stop;
I wished the sky would turn red
and bleed into nothingness
until I drifted away.
The skeletons of my childhood
claw at my skin,
keeping me awake at night.
But thank the Lord,
this nourished heart pounds curiosity into my veins
of what tomorrow
And the stronger my heart beats,
the harder I want to see
the morning sun.
So I will keep on typing,
filling the world with my muse,
with a mouth full of soul food,
taking advantage of the sky
that stretches over today.