Home Poetry Overthought Mornings

Overthought Mornings

by Stephanie Alfaia

My mind is a trickster.

She creates,
she pretends,
she denies.
My mind is a writer,
alluding my soul 
to believe in optimism.
She picks up crayons
and colors people, 
bright auras when
dark they be.
My mind is a lawyer.
convincing my heart
the merchant is innocent.
Worst of all,
my mind is hopeless.
Longing over logic,
dreaming in blurrs,
accepting for the 
concept of love.
How do you disconnect,
The mind, heart & soul? 

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