My brain and heart divorced - poem.

 

                                                                        

My brain and

heart divorced

a decade ago

over who was

to blame about
how big of a mess
I have become.

Eventually, they couldn’t be

in the same room as one another.

Now my head and heart
share custody of me.

I stay with my brain
during the week 

and my heart gets me on weekends.

They never speak to one another,

– instead, they give me
the same note to pass
to each other every week

and the notes they
send to one another always
says the same thing:

“This is all your fault’

On Sundays my heart complains

about how my head has let me down

in the past, 

and on Wednesday my head lists all of the times my heart has screwed things up for me in the future.

They blame each other for the state of my life.

There’s been a lot of yelling – and crying

so lately,

 I’ve been spending a lot of

time with my gut who serves as my

unofficial therapist.

Most nights I sneak out of the window in my ribcage and slide down my spine and collapse on my gut’s plush leather chair that’s always open for me

and just sit sit sit sit until the sun comes up.

Last evening, my gut asked me if I was having a hard time being caught between my heart and my head.

I nodded.

I said didn’t know if could live with
either of them anymore.
“My heart is always sad about something that happened yesterday 

while my head is always worried about something that may happen tomorrow"

I lamented.

My gut squeezed my hand

‘I just can’t live with my mistakes of the past or my anxiety about the future,’I sighed.

My gut smiled and said: 

"In that case, you should go stay with your lungs for a while,’

 I was confused.

“if you are exhausted about your heart’s obsession with the fixed past and your mind’s focus on the uncertain future your lungs are the perfect place for you.

There is no yesterday in your lungs,
there is no tomorrow there either.

There is only now

There is only inhale

There is only exhale

There is only this moment

There is only breath
and in that breath

you can rest while your
heart and head work
their relationship out.’

This morning, while my brain was busy reading tea leaves

and while my heart was staring at old photographs, I packed a little bag and walked to the door of my lungs.

Before I could even knock she opened the door with a smile 

and as a gust of air embraced me

She said
“What took you so long?’

by John Roedel