they were just two jerks playing with matches

I have sat here for some time staring at my computer screen with this picture that speaks louder than the words I am unable to procure at the moment and wondering why on earth I want to write something so badly.  An hour has now passed and as of yet, nothing has come to mind.

Within the cavity of my chest, in the space between my ribs and my spine, is where I truly live. It is in this compartment of bones, blood, muscles, organs and skin where my heart beats, my lungs expand and where my emotions thrive, like waves on the shore they shift and break, like lights in a fog they glisten in the darkness and then slowly fade to into a green blue hazy. It is here that I know the solid sediment that is stress build in my stomach, feel the sunshine burst from within the confinements of my skin that is joy, the hollow decrepit black forest that is despair and the feel of the love that is my family. And it is here, that words are fading in and out of the fog, concert ideas are being written and then washed away by the waves and I constantly loose the reason why I want to write. So I listen to quiet songs, flick back to Facebook to scan the names of the people that I have so little to do with and feel the dark blues, gray-greens, flecks of gold and deep purple dance under the skin of my chest.

I live in my heart.