The shape of my Heart is definitely Cordate
Regardless of how stone-cold I have tried to make this thing feel, my heart is always filled with warmth; too much sometimes. It is always yearning for activities of a certain type; it yearns for passion as much as it has suddenly began to feel compassion for events and people around it.
My heart lets me down every chance it gets. You see, people say it is beautiful regardless of the scars; people say there is madness behind beauty. Do I believe what people say about this blood-filled cordate organ which lies in the middle of my chest, slightly towards the left of the breastbone?
No.
I do not believe them. Nobody knows what I know about it. I believe that it is a unique knowledge to everyone and it is capable of deceiving just anyone who pays attention to it. At least, in my own opinion.
Everybody deserves an opinion, correct?
This thing acts on its own will, regardless of what I want or think. My heart easily identifies with, connects with, engages with and gets tangled in just anything that depicts — characteristics and capabilities of a complicated yet beautiful mind with an unflinching intellectual cognizance — without caution.
Okay, maybe I get a heads up sometimes, but this cordate piece of organ inevitably has a mind of its own regardless of my opinions, precautions and fair warnings spelt out to it.
This thing ironically becomes my dictator. It decides what to do if will-power is absent; it does as it wills, like it has a mind and control panel or tower of its own. It takes great effort, discipline and willpower to stop it from causing havoc or being responsible for happiness of any sort, as the case may be.
My heart aligns with every atom of energy vibrating around me.
Nothing supersedes the care and attention my heart demands from me. This thing irreverently pisses me off so much and I have lost count and tracks of its frivolous activities.
Regardless of how much I wish I could control the activities and framework of its operating system, it is probably my most valued possession as it gives me life, purpose, passion and every other thing you can best imagine. Without its regular beats and activities, I may be just as good as a defunct robot or the P in psychopathy. Useless.
Regardless of what you or I think about this thing, I need it; we all do. We need it to breath, to survive, to live, to feel, to love, to touch and to “leave”.
Is your heart cordate too? Let me know your opinion!