My Heart Is Like A Map by Izabella

It holds rivers that curve and reach like poison oak vines,

dying on a tree, at the end of summer

 

It beats a steady song, like drums that sound hollow

 

Its mountains reach as high as the white moon

Its canyons are as deep as an ocean

crafted by the rain

Its forests are as thick as my favorite book

that never ends

 

My heart listens to nature, holding the sounds of butterfly wings beating

 

Its borders are drawn with my imagination

My heart is as open as a marigold that closes at night

 

My heart knows where home is, and that is where I am happy

On the map of my heart, home is marked with my family

 

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