convinced heart

Written by: joy bohland

You might look at me
think I'm young and sweet
but where there should be tenderness
and innocence
lounges a body of biterness.

I don't believe in anything.
I don't believe in anything.

When their young wives age will they still love them?
I've seen nothing of the kind yet.

Does a decade mean anything anymore?
Or is it just a destination to pass and ignore?
Why do his eyes roam?
Why do his hands roam?

I don't believe in anything.

Can the heart be only stolen
or broken?
Or can it be honestly conviced?

I will sort through my possessions
burn up my bitterness
stuff my brand new luggage
with only love
and hand it all
over to someone 
with my convinced heart
in my sturdy hands.

It can be convinved.
It can be convinced.

They'll make a spectacle of me
when they visit our colony.
When their love fails
they'll blame it on love itself
but they simply did not follow through
and they won't believe,
they won't believe anything.
But we do.

I'm convinced.
I'm convinced.
I'm convinved