Year: 
2019

Thy heavy-heart weeps.
Simply not bursting of salty teardrops.
Thy heart weeps blood,
for it's bursting of distress.
Much sorrow.
Although,
not in a dark place.
Being worn on thy chest.
Merely for whom?
For fingers that are brave,
wanting to communicate with thy weeping heart.
For ONE whom cast thy eyes on the red waterfall of tears
that quietly pumps through many holes.
Thy heart can't be perfect,
no,
to many holes.
Surely thy heart's perfect for someone special.
A hostage weeping heart  for now.
Find the key . . .
Release it . . . 
Hold it . . .
Embrace thy heart,
for you're the healing patch that never falls off.

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