Monday, 24 August 2015

Home is My Heart

Home is My Heart

The key turns and I close my eyes, listening, taking in the fact that I’ll never, ever, open the door again to what once was and might have been. They say, they really do, that ‘home is where your heart is’ but, after my day of days, I’m thinking that my home, my real home, is the very heart that I take with me.

Like that essential item, that toothbrush, those favourite shoes, maybe even that lip balm, it has to be with you or you always feel like something’s missing. Maybe something will always be missing and that fact, that very little snippet of information, is why I keep moving. Moving forward, ever onwards, maybe even possibly a positive progression. Who knows? I don’t. I don’t know… I only feel as the last moments of a locking key escape into the world.

With a turning back, with a glance away from the door, feet move and the path ahead is walked upon. I’m not scared, I’m not escaping, I’m on another adventure and maybe, just maybe, I’ll find another key and explore another map.

My home is wherever I smile. If you smile back… I might even stay for a while. After all… Bricks and stone may break my soul but my body will always protect my heart.

Make my home your heart.


The mirror, the ever expressive point blank preview of your own reflection, the reverse of what you present to the world, the portal into your very own little play book and script. With closed eyes we exhale, together, looking into the same mirror, trying to form or to feel a connection that’s been eluding our emotions for many a night. We’re, literally, figuratively, setting ourselves in fire with the eyes that we see each and every single day.

Eyes open, wide, as wide as they can see, mimicking eyes caught in the headlights taking in the very few seconds before the inevitable may, or may not, play from the scrapbook of life. We wish for another page, another story, the play to never end while stumbling to write. You look at yourself, not that deeply, not with any hunger, but with self-doubt and murmurs of unknown words.

The world within the mirror seethes, looks back at you with disdain, with discomfort, while your soul screams from within, wishing, wanting and bleating to be heard. Your image looks at your skin, your lips, as the mirror burns with flames of agony. What’s right, what isn't wrong, all the thoughts that spew forward from lips that should never be yours.

For a second you look down, wishing that you, instead, were somewhere else even if it were walking on fire. Burn your feet, scold your legs, but don’t, whatever you do, tarnish your face. A quick glance, a momentary shy flicker, with flames burning from the mirror, you return to where you once were. You recall what it was like to be a child, free of the burdens of life, safe, protected. For many that wasn't the case but, still, as are we all, our mirror self was seldom the strongest thought within a mind.

You lift your head, a bit higher than usual, gaining strength, fighting the demons and burning words and even manage a wry smile. The flames subside, they falter and flail, then die like a star in the sky. Substance, inner-glow, you know that that is worth more than another’s false words or thoughts. We are all born equally, more or less, yet selfishly defined by our outer skin. Let it go… embrace, breath life, caress hearts and forgo the banishment of self-doubt. We’re all beautiful despite what we've been told, despite how we've been brainwashed, regardless of freckles, colours, blemishes or lines.

A new flame appears surrounding the mirror, a flame of strength, purpose, made from your own inner love. You smile, the biggest smile you may ever have smiled as you believe that you’re amazing, that you’re not defined by the way you look and, as you walk away, you leave behind your reflection with its own inner misery.