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If Only I Could

By
My heart
is beating
at the speed of light,
at the dark haunts of night,
while I pretend
to be sleeping.

Sleep,
such a precious thing,
mostly because
I don't have to think.

No thoughts about
a locked heart,
opened and freed,
then shattered.

No brooding about
the pieces,
pieces lost and broken,
my heart.

If only I could
release my mind
free it
from those traitorous thoughts.

If only I could,
but I can't,
and all I can do
is wait--
for the scars to heal,
for the pain to fade,
for the hurt to grow less
over time.

But for now I just...
drift,
waiting and watching,
watching and waiting,
for a better day
to come.

Meanwhile, there is sleep...
and a new healed heart
someday.





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Somnio Avis said...
Feb. 17, 2009 at 3:05 am
Oooo, this one's very nice. Other than the adrupt last line in the 4th stanza, it's very fluid. It's a hopeful poem, yes? Broken heart mended... and yeah, sleep does tend to be mindless nonthinking. Wait, did that just make sense to you?

The second to last stanza stands out to me, mainly because it's true. Before you really do heal, you're just there, kind of. It's something that a lot of people tend to gloss over when they talk about healing from a broken heart. ... (more »)
 
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