Rice

Rest Ice Compression Elevation It doesn’t work for a heart. I rest it – Make it lazy. Deprive it of any exertion. Force sleep on it. Like a little baby confined to its crib. Where I forget it; as one does with a broken thing. I ice it – Make it cold. Deprive it of company or care. Expose it to the elements absurdly. Unguarded and uncossetted out there. Where I forget it; as one does with a broken thing. I compress it – Make it small. Deprive it of acknowledgement. Squeeze it into a little nook invisibly. Where I disregard its existence And forget it; as one does with a broken thing. I elevate it – Make it forgetful. Deprive it of silence and reflection. Fill its days with spectacles of distraction. I entertain it. And it forgets me; as broken things do to us. Rest Ice Compression Elevation It doesn’t work for a heart.