The Heart Makes Its Own Heavy

The heart makes its own heavy
Doesn’t matter how deep you’re cut
It’s enough
It’s all enough

And if some small squall comes
The heart makes of it a hurricane
It needs some storm to see through
To make sense of life and pain

So it doesn’t matter where you’ve come from
Or the weight you’ve had to hold
The heart makes it’s own heavy
Until you’re old

Life supplies some circumstance of birth
Which might make the sting of pain and death
The worse
With loss and woe
But find a heart that doesn’t groan--
That can’t be done
The heart makes it’s own heavy
‘Til life is done

We grapple against our own selves
It’s not circumstance or happenstance
That shapes us
The heart can’t feel without revealing
How empty the feeling is
Of wanting more
But that’s what a heart is: the endless longing
Bending ever beyond
For more

My boring hometown is your Rome
Your home is the race to get away
The heart makes its own heavy
And its own unknown