Wednesday, October 21, 2009

Heartfelt (Poem)


Pain that breaks open our hearts
        isn't a wound we can stitch
        to a close

The way we patch
        the hole that a bullet makes
        or lace the skin that bones pierce.

When our hearts break,
        pain rises between the gaps left behind
        for the mind to wander in

And tears, when they come,
        get swapped for words we've learned
        to speak only to ourselves.

We can't force pain
        the way our hearts pull blood in
        before pushing it out.

We have to take its measure slowly,
        wait for it to dull,
        offer it time and our memory.

Copyright 2009 Maureen E. Doallas. All Rights Reserved.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

oh, you said this so well.