Eleven Twenty-Thirty Six
sighs invade my fingertips,
scratching whorls and loops--
and all that comes to mind
is the littleness of my heart.
of how it cannot take
this, that, much, of regret-grief-silence
this realization,
(the smallness of my heart)
makes me sad, but somewhat also falls into place
of how I have become numb, dumb, bumbling
I never seem to do enough for others,
yet do so much for some
Those that I don't do enough for, seems to have needed them (as well I)
Those that I do much for, flick me off like a speck of lint,
.... and they don't need me after all :'(
either way, I still lose them
so this comes to mind, thus the roots of my num(b)itty-ness:
be silent, my miniscule heart
I don't think you have enough room in your chambers
to s h a t t e r anymore
15th November 2014
Copyright © Kaye S- | Year Posted 2014
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