a sad street
I’m tired today.
My body feels like it’s forgotten to sleep for about forty years, and it’s finally realized this omission.
But my heart feels this way today as well. Like my heart is walking down a lonely, rainy street and spies something, and bends down to pick it up. My heart looks curiously at this newfound thing, but doesn’t seem to know what it is. My heart rolls this thing around in its hand, and it feels uncomfortable. It hurts. It’s sharp and painful. It makes my heart sad. My heart doesn’t know what this is, doesn’t recognize it, but puts this thing in its pocket and continues on its way, until it finds something else that makes it sad, and lonely, and confused.
And with pockets full of unknown sorrows, my heart continues its journey, crying as it goes.