The Broken Heart

Can you hear the subtle sound of my breaking heart?

Can you?
To me it is a clarion bell.
Broken? you say,
Do you not see my shattered pieces?
Heart? That rusted tin man thing?
To me it is like wine, and the heart of a fresh kill,
no,

it is the heart of an old woman
who is incapable of understanding.

What more must I do in this life?
Wait and See.
Wait and See.
I cannot wait any longer,

This life is too short.

Just once in my life
I want to matter more than things,

More than someone else,

More than a drug.
or an ego.

Just once,
I want to be swept up.

Unexpectedly.

Can you hear the sound of this heart?

Its the flight call of the killdeer.

The flutter of its dubious broken wing
Spins the cauldron of my gut.

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