Capture

What can capture a heart?

That question intrigues through
Happily ever after and couples torn apart.
What allows someone to relinquish
The reins to their veins,
To trust the pumping of their
Blood to some other hand, to
Bury safety and security
In the sand, and scream
“You will never use your strength on me again!”

When said capture ensues
Which party sets the ransom
And which pays the dues?
For hearts must be given back, yes?
If not, then what is love?
A cycle of selfish actions
To ensure a seat in heaven above?
Or perhaps it exists simply to
Satisfy our needs.
No matter who bleeds.

No, I believe, though hardly followed,
There exists a rule.
One whose presence delineates
The wise man from the fool.

Return the hearts you find yourself holding.

Either by some masterfully executed
Grand plan, or by stumbling ass-backwards
Into the purest love in the land,
Recognize the power for which
You are held liable.
Recognize hearts are muscles that by nature
Are far too pliable.

That is to say, too pliable to hold.
Hearts belong in chests, where they
Are free to both cower and make bold.

But freedom is the key.

Receive, examine, appreciate, return.
Then take their hand,
A much more suitable item for which to yearn.

For the living of a life
Is best left to those whose life it is.

And after you’ve safely sutured up
The cut below which lays the heart returned.
All the sweeter it is when locking eyes
She utters the words for which you’ve yearned.

Savor, respect and reciprocate
This awesome beauty in which you partake.
Honor the weight of the love you demonstrate.

Keep that heart safe from others’ hands
But most importantly from your own.
For one pain exists that is greater
Than any rejection.

The knowledge that you’ve influenced a false love
That was never meant to be shown.

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