They assume there is love for the heart.
The heart is attacked and broken down because of what the eyes have seen.
The eyes flow like rocky streams from what they observe.
broken down because the heart beats pain instead of drums.
tears instead of blood
confusion instead of understanding
Exhausted from speculation
I’m patiently waiting for the blood to flow freely in my veins.
My Arteries to unclog the anticipation and pain.
For the tears to stop running like salty streams.
For my fingers to stop writing these dangerous words that impair my vision like cataracts.
For the anger to stop piercing me like spasms in my backs.
My feet to rest from walking the road of disaster.
To be cured with the antibiotic of rest, and the release of my distress
Bed rest as my comfort.
Sleep as my friend.
Death as the end of my stress.
heaven to start over.