Supply my Liquid Life

Be still, heart, for the beat of thoughts
Cannot keep speed with the pace you’ve set.
The mind implores you to stop and reconsider

The reckless actions you induce
For these are not activities logic wishes to explore.
There is danger plastered upon the verb,

Concealed with a stable smile and fair mannered words
Which do not hint of the horror that will soon be unleashed.
In fear you will take well intended words unkindly,

The message is sent by a mutual third party
Transporting words and a steady supply of liquid life.
This is merely an attempt to arrange an agreement of boundaries

Limits that both can function comfortably within
Not as kenneled dogs or cage-held birds
But as trail trained horses or ocean confined fish.

There is no need to start a feud within the skin
We each seek to provide with stable functions
Just please, fellow organ, don’t lead us to a premature end.