Protest Partners

My mind protests but my heart fails to hear it; my mind uses trumpets and trombones to blast it into my ear. I'm enlightened. The light is magic.

It shakes my core and thousands of questions tumble down in quiet snaps.

My mind says that it's now too late to say I'm sorry.
That I did nothing wrong to have anything to apologise. 

Protests see fists; my heart is the size of my fist.
Perfect protest partners. 

My heart is holding me tight, keeping me in agony and my mind is asking me to let go. Break free and fly.

How do I protest? 
I'm tired now.