Seems like it
A heart doesn't need much
To be broken or to be exalted.
It's strength lies in its simplicity.
Often being torn apart,
And getting stitched back.
Sadness lies in it's many forms
Often too cruel or at times futile.
Just like the nimble winds,
That collectively create waves in the Pacific,
or like a drop of mercury enough to paint a person's death.
Some words are enough to make the ice break beneath your feet.
Some actions are enough to push you
down to the stairwell of insanity.
But the thing that hurts the most
Is you being too blind to see
the efforts that I make, to put myself together -
To run, to walk, to speak my ways back to you.
Maybe just like me, this is yet another selfish poem that doesn't seem to make any sense.
but I often wish your heart had ears,
Because surely it seems like mine has a tongue Which seems to speak a language that you could never understand.