A Proprioceptive Metaphor

I will my legs to move; I want to run
But damn, they move too slow to call it that
They’re healing still; I know they’re almost done
My nerves are still unsure of where they’re at
Whenever I decide to move them fast
I guess for now I’ll have to move them slow
At first they wouldn’t move at all; at last
They move the way I want my legs to go
And yet proprioceptors of my heart
Are deaf to how I feel;  I want to love
Like learning how to run, I’ll have to start
With baby-steps; it’s you I’m thinking of
I’ll take it slow, but baby, I will mend
My heart and how it loves; I need my friend.

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