When a heart is broken,
It is a quiet event;
And words get spoken
None can prevent.
Yet a heart is broken
So Nature reflects the pain:
Fell things are awoken,
Fire and fume, ice and rain.
Feelings are cyclones;
Tears are a flood;
Fears are the crones
That demand blood.
The very earth rumbles;
The skies are torn apart;
Every pulpit crumbles,
At the breaking of a heart.
I can put away the pill;
I haven’t put away my pain;
But sleep is lured to me,
As fatigue strives again.
The draining of the heart
Is a gruelling process –
a rigmarole of feeling
That affords no recess.
Four words from someone
Can tear you down;
Four words can also freely
Send in the clowns.
I want to try and see
If I can earn some sleep
Without its torturing –
Or its rest being deep.
If I can be let go,
Despite love and living,
It’s time to take heed
And start a self forgiving.
Sleep has left the building.
She has to be coerced with a pill.
She has no claims to fantasy.
She requires no story.
Give her a story
And she will stay away pursuing it.
She’s best left storyless
And thus, barren.
A pill is her fee.
She comes – carelessly –
And then has a brood of dreams.
Dreams I would rather not have;
Because they remind me of loss
And pain –
And people who won’t love me again.
Sleep smiles. I forced her with a pill.
So I am punished.
Her brood wakes me up
And the moment, I open my eyes,
She is once again set free.
Hearts Still Care 
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