Heartbeats Were Made For This

Heartbeats were made for this…
To knock from inside ribcages entirely bruised by soft blows of ignorant verbal punches. To knock until the bleeding coagulates into boxing gloves, thudding from the inside against ribcages that locked themselves and threw away the key long ago.

Heartbeats were made for the resilient…
To remind them of purpose and worth. Even under the canopy of the hateful clouds that rain daggers and assegais. Sharp enough to carve one into a vessel of unfounded hatred and hollow reason. To balance screams with melodic song.

Heartbeats were made for the misfits…
Who are the misplaced pieces of the puzzle. Pieces of blue, meant for the sky. Pieces that show gaping jigsaw holes when missing. Pieces that we care not to acknowledge when they go missing, as though skies with holes in them are the norm.

Heartbeats were made for the living…
To exist. To love. To pump life force. To give a chance to those who belong everywhere. To acknowledge the fragile, the strong, the misunderstood, the dying, the living, the fearless, the fearful. The ones whose breath still fogs the crisp cold air from icy souls that seek to destroy the gift of life made beautiful by the source of all breath.

Heartbeats were made for all of us…
To be seen. To be heard. To be loved. To be held. To be respected.
Even in times of uncertainty.

Frank Malaba