Cry

I want to cry.

I don’t know why.

Shall this bleeding-

heart ever die?

True blood my heart,

does not bleed.

But something I can’t explain,

does flow from within.

this breast of mine.

I can’t place it.

Or put a name to it.

However, it is there.

But I can’t explain.

April 4, 1994

Taken from a collection I’ve entitled ‘The Destruction of Me’. Started in the 8th grade through college. Not a published book.